


Joint Souls and Broken Bones

by FanfictioningFangirl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Soulmates, pain sharing soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanfictioningFangirl/pseuds/FanfictioningFangirl
Summary: In which soulmates share each other's pain; Peter Parker gets into just as many fights as you'd expect a superhero to and Michelle Jones is convinced that her soulmate is dying. Initially follows the events of Homecoming. Soulmate AU.





	1. Chapter 1

_He crashes into a wall and falls on the ground, weight landing on his left arm._

Michelle feels the twist and the tug. She feels the sharp pain that shoots through him, scorching her from the inside. If she focuses enough, she can picture him, curled up on the ground and holding his aching arm to his chest.

Bang! (She winces.) Bang! (She winces, again.) Bang! (She wonders what he's doing — if he's okay.)

Something hits his head. His feet hit the ground awkwardly.

And then it stops.

She's lost her page in the book and, perhaps, in another life, that would have been her biggest problem. Instead, she presses her trembling palms to her face, ignoring the sharp pain in her lungs and the dull ache at the back of her head.

He's okay, she tells herself.

He has to be.

* * *

Her earliest memory of the link is from when she was five. Michelle remembers sitting at the table, watching her Mom cook while she described some absurd incident from school and, all of a sudden, she couldn't stop crying.

At five, nothing had ever hurt more.

Right now, Michelle thinks she might be worse off.

(That _he_ might be worse off.)

* * *

She's at Liz's party when it happens again.

One moment she's standing at the back, sniffing her suspiciously coloured drink and rolling her eyes at Flash. The next, she feels him fall, and it's almost as though her own chin slams against the ground, head vibrating and her vision blurring for a moment.

It only gets worse.

She feels him drag against the ground, his arms straining and his knees scraped. She feels the way he hits the ground, the way it makes his sides ache. She tries to close her eyes and picture him right now, but she can't.

It doesn't make sense.

It hasn't made sense for a while now.

She doesn't remember rushing to the washroom, but the next thing she knows, she's turned on the faucet and has pressed her palms to her ears wishing she could block it all out. Wishing she could block him out.

She wants to worry about him.

She wants to tell her Mom that her soulmate gets beaten every day. That she's sure he's covered in scars and bruises with broken bones and aching ribs. She wants to tell someone that they need to find him. That they need to protect him.

Michelle only feels a fraction of his pain, and it hurts so fucking much.

She doesn't know how he bears it.

How he's survived so long.

She's not sure she wants to know.

Before, she used to picture bullies, pinning him against a locker and beating him senseless. Now, she wonders if he starts the fights, or if he's dragged into them. She wonders if his parents know. (How could they not?)

She wants him to be smart. She wants him to be kind and sweet and funny. She wants to be able to talk to him and tell him things. She wants him to surprise her. To be different. To be himself. She wants to trust him and love him, but she doesn't even know who he is.

(She never might.)

She can only hope that his life gets better. That his bruises get time to heal; because Michelle's not sure she could save them both from drowning. Not when she can barely swim on her own.

She stands up. Turns the faucet off.

Her hands are still trembling, but she feels better. Calmer.

_Smack!_

She feels the pain all over. It sends a chill down her spine, burns against her skin and seems to seep into her bones. Nothing has ever hurt more.

She takes a step backwards. Her legs give way again.

It feels as though someone has taken hold of Michelle's lungs.

As though they're not letting go.

She can't breathe.

She just — can't.

And then it's back. Her lungs clear and Michelle gasps for air. The world comes back into views and, hastily, Michelle wipes her tears away.

Someone bangs their fist against the door.

Michelle stands. Washes her face.

Nobody notices when she leaves.

* * *

Except:

Peter Parker is standing outside Liz's house, hoodie pulled over his head and hands buried in his pockets. He looks up when she closes the door behind her, face scrunched up like he's trying to raise an eyebrow at her but can't.

"Hey," he says brightly. "Leaving early?"

"Compared to you? I'd say not really."

He grimaces and, for a moment, his gaze focuses on the ground as though there's something else on his mind. Michelle should ask why he left. She almost asks why he's waiting outside like a creep.

But her body is still burning from a pain that isn't hers, and she's not sure if she wants to talk to Peter Parker right now.

She's not entirely sure he wants to talk to her either.

But: "Hey, you're close to Liz, right?" His shoulder bumps against hers and, for some reason, Peter starts walking with her "I mean, I know your Moms are friends. Or something."

"If that's your definition of close, then sure. We're practically soulmates."

She's being rude. Michelle can hear the bitterness in her own voice, and she sees the way it hits Peter. The way it makes him stare at her a little longer. Like he doesn't know if she's mad at him or if she's cracking a joke. His eyes are narrowed, his lips parted. He looks _so_ confused.

"I'm kidding," Michelle says quickly, and she nudges her shoulder against his for good measure.

My soulmate is a dick, she wants to explain because she knows that Peter's a good listener; She knows that he'd care. Instead, she plays it safe and tells Peter Parker exactly what he wants to hear: "We're friends."

His eyes brighten. "Oh. Oh okay. That — I — I just — Do you think she'd be really mad about today?"

Michelle thinks of Liz peeping into every room and asking for Peter Parker. She thinks of Ned sitting on the couch and attempting to call Peter over and over again. She thinks of Flash, thoroughly enjoying the situation.

"I think she's getting used to it. I think we all are."

He crinkles his brow, gaze landing on the footpath again. "Oh," he says quietly, and Michelle lets him be for a moment.

She knows her words aren't comforting, but nobody's ever come to her for comfort. Michelle's known for her blunt remarks and honest opinions. She's not rude like Flash, but she doesn't sugarcoat like Liz either.

Plus, Peter recovers, and soon enough he's telling her about the lego he's supposed to build with Ned and asking her how she manages to read so many books. He walks her all the way to the bus stand and, when, half an hour later, there's still no sign of the bus, he walks her home.

Liz is lucky, Michelle decides when she waves him off from her doorstep. Boys like Peter Parker are hard to find. His soulmate, she decides, is even luckier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I like writing both Michelle and Peter being broken and soulmates who share pain is a great way to write about suffering! Especially when one half is a superhero who is constantly getting beat up!
> 
> I have the next couple of Chapters written, but depending on how long it takes to edit I'll update every week/ alternate week.
> 
> Please leave a review if you're free, they always make my day! :-)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)


	2. Chapter 2

She's sitting at the edge of the pool; pyjamas rolled to her knees and feet dipped in the water.

The others are at the deep end; Liz perched on a barrier in the middle, Abe and Cindy racing each other across the width of the pool and Flash doing his own thing.

_A rebellious group activity the day before a competition is good for morale,_ Liz had said, looking as though she was reciting the words out of a book. Michelle had rolled her eyes then but, sitting here, right now, Liz's words make sense.

They've never been this calm before a competition before. Cindy's usually spewing out random bits of information, Abe is usually fact-checking every second answer. Even Liz isn't doing her pre-tournament panicked pacing tonight. They all seem calm; like they've forgotten what tomorrow holds for them. And that's not necessarily a bad thing.

_Smack!_

Michelle blinks, wincing at the sharp pain. He's fallen, again — her soulmate. Tripped, she thinks, landing face down. His palms feel scratched, his knees ache. She holds her breath, half expecting something more, but nothing happens.

"Oye, Michelle," Cindy says, waving from halfway across the pool, and Michelle snaps back into the present. "Get in!"

She flips her off, kicks at the water, though Michelle doesn't come close to splashing any of the others.

And then he falls again. Only this time, it feels so much worse.

Her head burns. Her foot goes numb. Michelle can feel the familiar tremble in her hands, coupled with the sinking in her stomach. She dry retches, back of her palm pressed to her mouth.`

"Michelle?" someone says. Liz, maybe. But she can't find the energy to reply.

She stands up too quickly and sways on her feet for a moment. Her vision is blurred; her knees are trembling.

"I need to go," Michelle whispers, too quiet for the others to hear. _I need to go to him._

* * *

When Michelle was ten, she'd broken her nose by dropping a hardback of Deathly Hallows on her face. She'd gone to her parent's room after visiting the doctor, nose still aching with her face unnaturally swollen, and had curled up next to her Dad and cried.

Michelle remembers asking her Mom if he'd be okay (her soulmate) or if she'd doomed them both with her stupidity.

"No," her Mom said. "Your soulmate will be fine. They'll understand."

And then, in a soft but severe tone, while stroking her hair, her father had said: "Always be careful, Michelle. Remember, you're not just looking out for yourself. You're looking out for them too."

She's been careful since.

Almost too careful.

Sometimes, she wishes he would return the favour.

* * *

(She rocks the Decathlon Tournament despite her headache.)

* * *

She tries calling Peter. Twice.

It's silly, Michelle supposes. Peter's been missing since last night, and not even Ned knows where he is. He skipped the tournament, and there's no reason for him to turn up for some spontaneous sightseeing but, still, she's almost hoping he's followed the team here. That he'll turn up out of the blue, the way Peter always does. That she'll have someone to talk to while waiting for Spider-Man to reach the top. Someone to remind her that everything's going to be okay.

Because she is scared.

Scared for her soulmate, whose head-splitting headache didn't disappear till soon after the tournament. Scared for her friends, currently stuck halfway up a tower that she doesn't have access to. Scared that Spider-Man won't make it to them in time.

That she'll be all alone on the bus back.

With no Coach Harrington. No Liz. No Cindy.

She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Tries to remind herself that Spider-Man is a superhero. That he will save her friends.

(That he has to.)

But, once it pops into her head, she can't stop thinking of the ride home on her own. She can picture Liz's Mom, staring at her in disappointment. She can imagine the faceless soulmates who'll have to live in pain forever. Maybe she should have been in there with the others, Michelle thinks. Maybe that would have made waiting easier.

She takes in a shaky breath and hugs herself, trying to ignore the dull ache at the back of her head.

Too much depends on Spider-Man — who has now faded into a mere blob near the tip of the monument. Too much, Michelle thinks, is at stake.

(Peter Parker doesn't pick up the third time she calls either.)

* * *

Michelle can't sleep on the bus back.

Her arms ache, her head throbs and a small part of her is dying to go back home. She wants to curl up in her Mom's arms and cry like she's ten. She wants to go back home where it's safe, and elevators don't almost kill her friends. She wants her soulmate to stop getting hurt, and to stop sending her hourly reminders of his pain. She wants —

"Michelle?"

She looks up, squinting in the dark.

"Are you awake?"

It's Peter, staring at Michelle from two seats in front.

"Yeah," she says quietly.

He stands up, swaying with the bus, and slides into the seat next to her. Knees pressed against hers, elbow knocking into her side.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"I wasn't in the monument. With the others."

Peter sighs. Strings his hand through his hair. "I know," he says. "I — Still."

"I tried calling you."

He sighs. Twirls his phone in his hands. "Yeah. I saw."

"I was scared," Michelle blurts out. She buries her hands in her pockets, eyes trained on the window. "I was scared that I'd be the only one on the bus back tonight."

She hasn't told anyone else yet. She doesn't want to make this about herself when Liz and Abe and everyone else obviously had it so much worse. But waiting was scary; Hoping that nothing would go wrong was terrifying. And, she can't be entirely unjustified in her fear, right?

"You're not alone," Peter says after a few minutes.

"What?"

"You're not alone, right now. Everything's okay. Spider-Man saved the day."

Michelle snorts. "Yeah," she says. "But Spider-Man can't always be around to help us out. What will we do then?"

Even Peter doesn't have a reply for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly wasn't expecting this fic to get such a huge response so thank you so so so much to everyone who took the time out to read, favourite, follow and, of course, comment. You don't know how happy it makes me to see people enjoying my work and it truly makes my day every time I get the notification for a new review or favourite.
> 
> That said, I think there'll be one more Chapter following the events of Homecoming and then we'll head out into AU territory which is, honestly, where all the fun begins!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Feel free to stalk me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl) too!


	3. Chapter 3

They're all crowded around Liz. Cindy's threatening to punch Peter Parker and Betty is hugging Liz, rubbing her back comfortingly. They're all crowded around Liz, trying to lift her spirits and Michelle should be listening to the others and trying to help out but her soulmate has fucked up again.

First, it's a shock — like when her charger had gotten burnt at the ends and had sent a buzz through her fingertips. She freezes up, heart hammering against her chest, hoping that it's a one-time thing. That the pain won't continue. That his charger has fucked up too.

Then he's slammed from the front. Slammed from behind. He hits the ground. Crashes into something. Falls. Falls. Falls again.

She's walked away from the group, blood rushing to her face; knees threatening to buckle under her weight. There's a discarded tie in the corridor. An abandoned jacket. A single shoe.

(Michelle prays she doesn't see anybody making out.)

She steps into the last stall, slips the latch into place and leans against the door. She's breathing heavily, her heart hammering against her chest. There are no fresh blows, though; There is no more pain. Just a numbness that has become all too familiar in the last few months.

She opens her eyes, blinking into the bright light of the washroom. Michelle has started spending so much time in the girl's restroom. Her back pressed against the stall door or sitting with the lid down on the U-Bend.

Michelle snorts at herself.

_What has she become?_

_(What has he made her?)_

When the pain subsides, she slips out of school; She should go back to Liz, but it hurts to move and, right now, the thought of home is so much comforting. And, anyway, Liz will be there tomorrow too.

* * *

It's only eight, but the world feels empty. The music blasting from school eventually fades, and soon Michelle left with only the sound of passing cars. She's usually back home by now, sitting at her desk and shuffling between studying and reading.

Normally, she'd have never risked leaving home after sundown — that's when _he_ tends to get into trouble. Today, though, she'd hoped that he'd keep out of it. That she'd get to enjoy one (just one) night without having to worry about broken ribs and fresh bruises on a body that isn't hers.

Though, of course, life has never been that kind.

(And her soulmate has never given a damn.)

She reaches the station without another incident and sits down, bouncing her knees and scrolling through messages she'll never reply to.

But, just as the train rattles into the station, it hits her again.

Like a crushing weight holding her (him) down. Pinning him against the ground. Her neck is strained, her palms burn. Michelle can't breathe. _She can't move._

Trembling fingers find her phone, tucked into a pocket of her dress, and she sends a text to her Mom. When the tears come, she lets them fall. Her entire body burns. Her back. Her chest. Her arms. She wants to curl up on the bench and disappear.

(She wants this to stop.)

And, amidst it all, she's terrified too.

Because eight pm at the station isn't that late, but there's an eerie silence about the place, and Michelle's not sure she could scream in her current state, let alone run.

She calls her Mom — a text doesn't seem desperate enough. "Hey," Michelle whispers and her voice cracks. She presses a trembling palm to her mouth, ducks her head. Her shoulders are shaking with the effort it takes to keep from bawling. Every inch of her body burns.

Five minutes before her Mom arrives, the crushing weight disappears.

(The pain, however, doesn't.)

* * *

She's curled up in bed, a blanket to her chin, a cup of tea on the bedside table. She's propped her phone up and has the _Try Guys _playing on autoplay, though Michelle's barely watching them.

The car ride back was somehow worse than the wait at the station. A slam into his sides, a twist of his ankle that had Michelle hissing in pain. And then, a scorching heat so unbearable that it left Michelle shivering in its wake.

Her Mom had stopped the car at once. They'd parked near a Starbucks, her Mom rubbing Michelle's shoulders and whispering words of comfort for what felt like hours but must have only been a few minutes.

She feels battered and bruised and, now, burnt. Occasionally, he'll send a fresh shock of pain through her and Michelle will squeeze her eyes shut and try to block him out. (Occasionally, the pain will fade out, and she'll breathe in shakily, hoping that it's done — for real.)

Shared pain, she tells herself, is normal. This feels like when Will had the mind flayer inside him. It feels like she's being eaten from the inside. Like one day, the pain will become too much for either of them to bear.

"What if she's crossing the street?" her Mom says from outside Michelle's room, loud enough for her to hear. Her parents have been whispering about her since they got back. Whispering. Debating. Panicking.

There's no ending this bond though — she's stuck with her soulmate's pain for life. Until he dies, or, well, she does.

* * *

Eventually, her parents go back to their room. Michelle sets her tea to the side and curls up in bed.

For hours, she doesn't move. Sleep doesn't find her, but she's not restless either.

She hates her soulmate for doing this to her. For ruining everything that is good and important, but, she's scared for him too. (She always is.) How many more times does he have to fall before he won't be able to get up? How much worse will he have to face?

_How much worse will she have to face?_

She sits up, reaching for her phone. It's nearly two now and her phone is flooded with more notifications than Michelle has ever seen.

Messages from Cindy and Betty, a call from Abe and dozens of notifications from twitter and her twenty news apps.

She opens YouTube and, at the top of her recommendations is a live stream.

_Live from Coney Island: Spider-Man Saves the Day_

Michelle sighs. Closes YouTube. That would explain the notifications. She switches to Instagram and, aimlessly taps through picture after picture of her classmates at Homecoming.

They've posted on their main accounts and on their spam accounts and its the same dimly lit photographs over and over again. Apparently, there was an after-party where have the football team got drunk. Apparently, Rita and Tom were found making out in the locker rooms.

She stops, weirdly enough, on Flash's story.

He's shared a picture of a school bus - their school bus, turned over. Its windows cracked. Its door bent. There's a video of the wreckage - right outside their school. A picture of a man webbed to a bus. Snaps of the police arriving.

He's giving a live commentary through it all, but Michelle's phone is on mute and, she's not sure she wants to hear Flash's voice right now.

_#SpiderManWasHere_, he's written in bright yellow text, with a timestamp underneath: **7:56** — just moments before she left.

His next story is from two hours later and is of a wrecked car. The same car he's been boasting of all week. It's followed by pictures of a crumbling building of giant pieces of concrete and, a silver webbing clinging to the concrete.

_#SpiderManBorrowedMyCar #SpiderManWasHere_

And then, maybe half an hour ago, he shared a screenshot of an article_. _The featured image is of a burning wreckage. _#SpiderManSavesTheDay,_ Flash has written in the same ugly yellow font, but there's something else on Michelle's mind now: A quiet nagging she can't ignore.

She sits up, opens her laptop.

She reads every article that's come up in the last few hours. Scrolls through the trending tweets. Her soulmate's pain has almost gone, but there's something else on her mind now. Something more pressing.

Because, no matter how much she reads, all the stories seem to be the same:

An upturned bus in her school parking lot.

A crumbling warehouse in Brooklyn.

And, a flaming plane-crash along the coastline.

All of a sudden, something clicks in Michelle's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this Chapter was honestly extremely fun to write! I know there's a general lack of dialogue here, but Michelle's never been one to speak everything she thinks and the setting of this Chapter needed it to just be her thoughts. That said, I hope you liked this chapter and I hope you don't mind a bit of a delay before the next because my next couple of weeks are packed.
> 
> I will post updates on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl) and, maybe even the occasional snippet so feel free to follow me and message me on there!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

She doesn't sleep.

Michelle tries for a while. She puts her laptop aside. Curls up in bed. But, an hour later, she's still staring at the shadows in her room, trying to comprehend what she's just found out.

She's read dozens of articles from the past year. Her eyes burn from staring at her laptop in her dimly lit room, and her back still aches from the awkward position she'd propped herself up in. But, even with her laptop away, she can't stop thinking about it.

She can't stop thinking about _him._

Because Michelle's about 50% sure that Spider-Man might be her soulmate.

She found a Teen Vogue article from months ago, featuring a blurry picture of Spider-Man crashing into someone's roof the night of Liz's birthday party. There are dozens of credible reports from the day she fucked up her Biology quiz saying that Spider-Man was keeping the Staten Island Ferry from falling apart. Hell, there's even the fact that her knees gave way the moment Spider-Man leapt at the window in Washington, though Michelle hadn't given it a second thought back then. And, of course, to top it all, there's last night.

She sighs into her pillow, closing her eyes, desperately hoping she falls asleep, but her thoughts continue to wander.

Most of her classmates have, at some point, wondered out-loud about having a superhero soulmate. Between their occasional appearances in movies, their many connections and regular visits to the Stark (now Avengers) tower, it's the dream life. There's this curiosity-inspiring mystery about them — this strange desire to be part of the 'Superhero life'.

Everybody dreams of having a superhero soulmate, Michelle thinks, but nobody truly wants one. And now she knows why.

In an interview with Pepper Potts that surfaced during Michelle's hunt, Potts had briefly mentioned what it was like being the soulmate of a superhero.

"There are days when I don't want to work," she'd said. "I don't feel like getting out of bed, I don't want to run the business. It's painful being linked to a hero. You're not just dealing with your own crap. You're dealing with his crap and the world's crap. It's not always fun." Pepper Potts had smiled at that. "But Tony's a good man. I trust him."

And Michelle gets that. She trusts Spider-Man too; He's helped people and saved so many lives. He's putting himself out there not for himself, but for others. That has to mean he's a good person and, even if she doesn't know him, it's comforting to know that her soulmate is fundamentally good.

But it's terrifying too.

Because Spider-Man won't stop saving the world, and that means Michelle won't stop suffering for it.

She sits up suddenly, brain buzzing too much for her to go to sleep and she picks up her phone, squinting at the bright light.

Notifications for a dozen new live-updates from Coney Island have filled her screen again and she hunches over her phone, opening the first article.

They found a man amongst the wreckage, webbed to a crate and holding a note from Spider-Man. A man who, according to the NYT, was illegally selling space-weapons to the general public. Pictures of an underground warehouse and images of glowing weapons follow and, right at the end, is a blurry shot of a face Michelle recognises at once:

It's Liz's Dad.

* * *

Her Mom spends the weekend at the Toomes' place.

Liz's Dad will have his trial in the week to come, but there's too much evidence against him and, even her usually optimistic Mom, is silent about the whole situation.

"They're moving to Oregon," her Mom tells Michelle over the phone. "For a fresh start. They're leaving on Wednesday." That's four days from now.

Michelle drafts a message for Liz, with a: _'I'm sorry that life fucked up'_ and _'I hope things work out'_ but, when she reads through it again, her words feel wrong and falls flat. They're not enough for what Liz is going through — nothing is. She deletes the message and types out a smaller, '_Are you okay?'_ but, realising the answer is obvious, doesn't send that either.

Between leading the AcDec team through multiple victories and single-handedly organised the Homecoming, Liz has done more than any of them this year alone. They'd all silently agreed that she would end up in an Ivy League after school. But, with Adrian Toomes on the verge of being whisked off to prison and Liz's sudden transfer of school halfway through the year, it feels like everything has gone wrong for her.

And, curled up in bed well past noon, there's a part of Michelle feels guilty about it. Because, if Spider-Man really is her soulmate, and if he is the one who caught Liz's Dad, isn't she indirectly part of the reason why Liz's life has turned upside down?

* * *

On Monday morning, everyone wants to talk to Liz. The AcDec team gives her one last hug, promising Liz that everything will be okay. Betty helps her empty her locker. Mr Harrington looks incredibly disappointed that he's losing his best captain ever.

Michelle should say something, she really should, but she feels so damned guilty that she doesn't dare to.

She wonders, though, as Liz walks out of the school grounds for the last time, if Liz would hate her if she knew the truth.

(Later on, she wonders if Liz hates her for not saying goodbye.)

* * *

She gets late leaving school in the evening.

Harrington holds Michelle back after class ends. He wants her to draft a strategy for the next semester. He wants dates on which they'll practice, competitions that they should be working towards. She's only just been made captain, and the term is nearly coming to an end, but Harrington doesn't want to lose his winning streak, and Michelle doesn't blame him for it.

(She does, however, blame him for thinking she'll ever be half as good as Liz.)

So she sits, and listens and lets Harrington ramble about what he'd planned with Liz. Michelle agrees with most of what he says (she's barely processed the fact that she's Captain. It'll take a few more meetings before Michelle knows what she wants for the team.) and promises to get back to him by the end of the week.

When she finally leaves, the last bus home has departed and, too broke to afford an uber, she settles with walking back alone instead. Except:

"Michelle?"

She whips around.

It's Peter Parker. He's still wearing the backpack and he's grinning at her like he didn't just skip half a day of school. Hell, for once in his life, he seems okay. Even if he did just appear out of nowhere.

Michelle wants to ask him why he left Homecoming. She wants to ask him why he left the Decathlon meeting. She wants to know where he keeps going and _why_ he keeps disappearing.

Instead, she waves. "What's up?"

And, acting as though her greeting is an invitation for Peter to tag along with her, he skips the last few steps till he's next to her, nudges Michelle in the side and tilts his head forward, gesturing for them to keep walking.

With a shrug, Michelle does.

"How's Liz?" he asks.

Oh. Of course.

"I don't know." She never got around to sending her text. Never got around to saying goodbye. The more she thinks about it, the more certain Michelle is that she's Spider-Man's soulmate. And, the surer she is, the guiltier Michelle feels.

"Do you think she'll be okay?"

And Michelle pinches her lips together, twisting the adjustable part of her backpack strap around her thumb.

"Yeah," she says. "It's Liz. If she can't survive this, nobody can."

Peter nods. "Right?" he says, sounding relieved. "That's what I thought too."

And, suddenly, it occurs to Michelle that she's not the only one who has been drowning in guilt this past weekend. Peter Parker, despite his regular disappearances, is and has always been a good kid. She doesn't think he meant to abandon Liz hours before her life would turn upside down. He's been distant for a while now and, after these past few months of hell, Michelle gets that. Sometimes, life just sucks.

"So, captain, huh?" Peter says, elbowing her in the side and she snaps back to the present.

Michelle smiles at the ground. Blood rushes to her face, and she's suddenly too embarrassed to speak. It had been awkward when Harrington had told the team a mere five minutes after he'd told her. This, somehow, makes her feel even more awkward. Not that Peter notices.

"You'd have been my first choice too," he says. "After Liz."

"I think he'd have picked you if you weren't constantly disappearing."

Peter runs a hand through his hair. "Oops? I'll try to be better from now on."

"You better," she says. "We don't tolerate the repeated absence of any member under this new regime. No matter how good they are."

She expects him to joke along, but instead, he nods at her sincerely. "I'll definitely try."

And, though she doesn't want to dwell on why, she finds herself smiling at him again, gaze refusing to meet his but, also, refusing to leave him.

She listens to Peter go on about his favourite sandwich place and rolls her eyes at his Star Wars references and pretends like the fact that he's walking her home even though he lives at the other end of town isn't special.

(Because, really, it isn't.)

(And, anyway, Peter had Liz and has a soulmate and Michelle has Spider-Man. The butterflies in her stomach don't mean a thing.)

(Or, maybe they do.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this was a novel, I'd say this was the end of Part 1. Michelle's figuring out Spider-Man, she probably needs to figure out Peter Parker and, with Liz off to Oregon, I guess Peter's free to fall for somebody else now ;)
> 
> Hope you like this!
> 
> Feel free to bother me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Please please please comment if you have the time, it always makes my day to see them, even if I don't always reply on time!


	5. Chapter 5

It only takes a few weeks for Liz to slip out of their minds. The trial takes place, people whisper and then, eventually, they move on.

Michelle gets busy too. They start meeting up for AcDec nearly every day and, at least once a week, she stays back after the rest to go over the tournaments the team would like to attend with Coach Harrington. Their next one is in Texas, in the second week of January, so there's the additional pressure of trying to distribute work and start studying for next year's formal topic, Africa.

Spider-Man's stayed low since his fight with Liz's Dad, and Michelle's grateful for that. She doesn't think she could juggle everything at once, and the break from her soulmate's pain is welcome.

There is, however, the problem of Peter Parker.

Michelle tries to pretend like she doesn't notice when Peter slides into the seat next to her during meetings. Elbows on the table, eyes fixed on her and hanging onto every word she says. Not that she cares, Michelle tells herself. She's just observant.

About everyone.

And everyone happens to include Peter Parker.

Cindy, for instance, likes to study out loud, going over facts with someone else. Abe, usually at the receiving end of Cindy's ramblings, prefers to study on his own, with noise-cancelling headphones and his lips moving as he reads. Ned can do math in seconds. He understands formulae better than any of them and is a whizz at anything related coding. And, Peter — well, Peter's good at anything he sets his heart on, but he loves Physics and Chemistry more than anything else.

Liz always made them stick to their preferred domains, but Michelle's been trying to switch things up a bit. There's always a small amount of juggling based on the formal topic, but she's changed more than just that.

They're all still generally doing what they're best at, but she has Ned focusing on technology as well as maths, Abe is doing wildlife along with biology, Peter's doing architecture along with physics, and so on. She's broadened up their domains. Balanced the load.

And, though she swears she hadn't planned to do this, she's paired them up differently too. Which means that Peter's sitting next to her right now, scrolling through an article Michelle sent him and scratching notes in his pocket-sized notebook. Art and architecture, Michelle thinks. She's at least a little justified in her decision to pair up with Peter.

"You've stopped reading."

She blinks, snapping back to the present.

"What?"

Peter drops his pen. Laces his fingers together and stretches his arms above his head, and Michelle can't bring herself to look away.

"You read faster than me, but you've been stuck on that page for ages," he explains.

"I — just — do you think this was a good idea? I don't know how well Betty and Ned study together, they barely even talk outside meetings. And, Abe and Cindy are friends, but they're so different, and I feel like everyone's going to get frustrated and decide that they want to go back to how things were before. With Liz."

She's rambling. Michelle hears her desperation in her own voice. She's nervous about the team. Worried about being captain and, most of all, she's trying so hard to pretend like she wasn't thinking about Peter. (Like he isn't always at the back of her mind. Smiling. Laughing. Existing.)

"I think it's a good idea."

She blinks, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, we're a team. We should be able to work with anybody. And, anyway, if you hadn't shuffled around the topics, Betty would have been swamped with study material. This is fair. It's good."

Michelle smiles. "Thanks."

"But," Peter says quickly, a glint in his eye, "I do think everyone's tired. Want to quiz for a bit? You and me against the others? For fun."

She feels her cheeks go warm and turns away quickly, praying that she hasn't turned scarlet. Everyone gathers up at once, glad for the break, and Michelle climbs onto the stage, slipping into her usual seat with Peter right next to her.

She tries not to blush when his fingers brush over hers as they reach for the buzzer at the same time. She tries not to giggle like a madwoman when he cracks a lame pun that everyone else rolls their eyes at.

_You're an idiot MJ_, she tells herself. An idiot with a crush and an idiot for having a crush. Because Peter's probably still in love with Liz and she knows that Spider-Man is her soulmate.

This will never work. They'll never be a thing.

And still, there's a small part of her that dares to dream and dares to hope.

Because she's blushing all over when Peter fist-bumps with her after they win the first round. And, her heart somersaults when, despite the dozen empty chairs, he sits next to her once their round ends.

It doesn't mean a thing, she reminds herself.

And yet, she really wishes it does.

* * *

Michelle swears she doesn't leave her house with the intent of following Spider-Man.

It's two days into the winter vacation, and she's dying for an excuse to get out of the house when a notification from Spider-Man twitter tells her that he's five minutes from her place and it just happens to be the perfect reason to leave.

So she grabs her coat and scarf, locks the door in a hurry and, refreshing twitter for any new updates, heads down the road towards where he was last spotted.

(Okay, yes, maybe she does go out with the intent of following Spider-Man.)

He hasn't been in a lot of fights since the incident with Liz's Dad, or, _The Vulture_, as everyone else is calling him. She's only felt the occasional bruise or stubbed toe — and, often, she barely realises it's his pain she's feeling and not hers.

He's swinging from building to building when she spots him, the web she knows he's hanging onto invisible in the winter sun so it looks like he's flying around awkwardly.

He seems to know that he's gathered a crowd though, because Spider-Man twists mid-air, feet above his head and arms outstretched, looking like an acrobat. It's impressive, but also terrifying. Michelle doesn't want to know how it would feel if he fell.

The crowd cheers at him and Spider-Man mock bows mid-air.

Michelle smiles at his antics, but she isn't out here for a performance. She's here for proof. She wants to see him hit a building or bump his elbow into a lamppost so that, when it happens, she can know for sure that he is her soulmate.

Because, sure, the signs add up, but she'd be a fool if she believed that Spider-Man is her soulmate without more evidence. Live evidence.

As if on queue, a boy across the street screams: "Spider-Man!" His hand slips out of his mother's, and he sprints across the road, pointing at the sky. She sees the car a moment before his mother does. Speeding towards the boy, showing no signs of slowing down and —

Spider-Man swoops in and lifts the boy. They crash into the snow inches away from her, clinging onto each other.

And she feels it. A soft graze on his arm when he collides with the ground; The strain on his other hand as he keeps the boy up and safe. It's barely there, but she feels it.

"You okay?" Spider-Man asks.

The boy nods. He's still holding onto the superhero, staring at him with admiration she didn't even know kids had for Spider-Man.

The Mom appears, scoops up the boy and mumbles an incoherent thank you to Spider-Man, but he's turned away from her, bionic eyes taking in the cheering crowd. And, though she knows she must be imagining it, Michelle swears his gaze stays on her for a moment too long.

He disappears soon after and Spider-Man twitter reblogs a picture that someone in the crowd with her must have taken. She doesn't care for it, though. Michelle's got all the proof she needs.

A chill runs down her spine and Michelle shivers, wrapping her gloved arms around herself. She's suspected for a while now. She's been almost certain, to be honest. But now she knows for sure, and that's different.

She squeezes her eyes shut. Breathes. When she opens her eyes, there's another familiar face waving at Michelle from across the street.

* * *

Peter Parker grins at her.

He's wearing too few layers for the winter, with no scarf and no coat — just a sweater that doesn't look warm enough for the snow. And, though it's only been three days since they met, Michelle's missed him.

She's spent the last three days trying to think of anything and everything that isn't Peter Parker, even if it sent her down the Spider-Man rabbit hole. Now, moments after she gained all the confirmation she'll ever need that Spider-Man is her soulmate, Peter Parker appears in front of her, with his windswept hair and bright eyes.

It's like the universe is plotting against her.

"Out for lunch?" he asks her and Michelle blinks. She supposes she is.

She hasn't made anything for lunch, and she's outside so she might as well pick up something to eat. Except, the look Peter is giving her tells Michelle that she'll be having more than just a cheap sandwich today.

"I guess I am."

He grins at her. "Great! You're coming with me. Does pizza sound good?"

Michelle nods. "Yeah. Sure."

"Perfect. There's this place nearby that's better than Pizza Hut and Dominos and Papa John's, and nobody really knows about it, but I swear MJ, you will fall in love."

"Sure."

And Peter makes a face at her, hand on his chest and looking both wounded and amused. "You're being sarcastic now," he says teasingly.

"Oh, really?" She feels her lips twitch, and she quirks an eyebrow at him.

Peter scowls at her."I'm going to prove you wrong, MJ. Just you watch."

She rolls her eyes at him, but she's smiling too. She doesn't know what coincidence put Peter so far away from his home, but she's glad for it. Foolishly glad, she tells herself, because only a fool likes one boy when she knows that her soulmate is another.

He rambles on about Star Wars, then Michelle tells him about a murder she read about last night, and he's grinning at her and laughing at her and —

He grabs her wrist and tugs her to the side, just as a bike speeds past them, splashing a mixture of mud and snow on the footpath.

"I —" Peter says awkwardly, his hand still around her wrist and Michelle stares at the ground, uncertain about what to say.

A cold wind tugs against them and he shivers, his ice-cold fingers still wrapped around her wrist and Michelle, eyebrows crinkled, steps in front of him and presses the back of her other hand to his cheek.

"You're freezing," she says softly.

"I — No."

His hand leaves hers, and he shakes his head in protest, but Michelle deftly pulls off her scarf, gives Peter a death stare and, carefully wraps her scarf around his neck. Sherlock style.

"Keep it safe," she says gently. "That used to be my grandma's."

And Peter, still staring at her unblinkingly, just as Spider-Man had moments ago, nods. "I will."

The pizza is good. Michelle will give Peter that. But it's nothing compared to the feeling in her head. Her skin feels warm where Peter's hand had wrapped around hers. Her cheeks feel warm just because she's spent nearly an hour walking around Queens with him. She wants to sit with him forever, talking about nothing and everything all at once.

And, sure, Spider-Man might be her soulmate, but Peter Parker is next to her right now, waiting for the bus that'll take him home. Both are out of reach, but one feels a little closer than the other.

He climbs onto the bus when it arrives. Gives her a bright smile that has Michelle's heart somersaulting again and says, "Text me when you get home!" Which almost feels like an invitation to talk some more.

And, just as the bus starts to move, he hangs his head out of the window and calls out: "Your scarf!"

With a sudden rush of confidence, she shouts back: "Give it to me next time!" Which is _definitely_ an invitation to meet again.

She's fucked, Michelle thinks as she walks home. She is so goddamn fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a new Chapter! We're out into the unknown (aka AU territory) and Peter Parker's going to be up against some new villains and MJ is going to suffer a lot but, for now, she's happily crushing on Peter Parker and stalking Spider-Man.
> 
> I did a weird amount of research on Academic Decathlons, but, quick disclaimer, we don't have them where I stay and so if I've gone about the strategising part of it wrong, please let me know (either here or on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl) ) and I can fix it!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! This fic is truly special and it makes me so happy to see such a huge response to it! I'm sorry if I don't always get around to replying to your comments, but they all mean a lot to me.


	6. Chapter 6

It hits her out of the blue.

She's sleeping, legs tangled in her blanket and arm hanging over the side of her bed. One moment, she's dreaming, the next, she sits up with a jolt, doubles over and presses her palm over her stomach.

It's worse than cramps. The pain's from somewhere inside her abdomen, unreachable to her searching fingers; She can't gently massage her stomach to ease the pain or walk it off. She just has to clench her jaw, close her eyes and breathe till the pain disappears.

He's kicked from the side before the ache in her abdomen gets a chance to fade. She feels him fall, palms hitting the ground roughly. Her hands tremble, his arms strain to hold his weight. Someone kicks him in the elbow, and he topples over, his shoulder scraping against the ground. He's rolling, Michelle thinks. Her arms feel scraped. There are moments when his nose burns.

And then, something hits him in the arm, and Michelle lets out a silent scream.

Her tears are warm against her cheeks, her palm leaves her aching stomach, and she begins to gently rub the spot on her arm. It feels like he's been burnt. As though a hot iron has been pressed against his skin and wasn't pulled away. Instinct tells Michelle to go and run cold water over her arm. Months of experience remind her that there's nothing she can do to ease her pain.

She can only wait.

Wait until Spider-Man escapes the pain.

Wait until he heals.

Just wait.

Michelle doesn't know how long she stays like that, tears spilling from under her eyelashes and rolling down her skin. Her knees are bent, her palm pressed against her aching arm. He's not being hit anymore, but the pain hasn't disappeared.

Michelle pictures him on the road, lying on his back and panting just as she is. She wonders if someone will help him. If he has the strength to get up and move.

She hopes he does.

But Michelle only shares a fraction of Spider-Man's pain, and it hurts too much to move:

It hurts when she reaches out for her phone, hurts when she crawls back under the sheets. Every inch of her skin burns, but most of all, her arm feels sore and numb.

It's worse than that time, Spider-Man fractured his arm when Michelle was ten. It's worse than that time at Liz's party when she'd had her breath knocked out of her. It's almost as bad as the night she figured out he was Spider-Man. If he'd fought for longer, it might have been worse than that too

She presses her thumb against the home button, shields her eyes when her phone lights up and then, eyes narrowed, scrolls through half a dozen messages from Peter Parker and nearly a forty texts on their AcDec group.

School reopens tomorrow, and she'd been excited until she fell asleep. (Until Spider-Man got into a fight that left her muscles burning and her arms aching.) Now, she just wants to stay in bed till her pain fades and Spider-Man's fights end.

He hasn't bothered her in a while now, but, when he'd been fighting Liz's Dad, it had gone on for weeks. Michelle's not sure she could deal with that right now. Not with school reopening and AcDec in two weeks.

She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. There are no reports about Spider-Man. Nothing to tell her that he fought someone tonight. (Nothing to confirm that he's okay.)

But the pain is fading, and her hands are no longer trembling, and maybe that means he's okay.

She opens her messages again, clicks on the half dozen from Peter Parker.

He's replied to her comment about how most cats die because they sleep on car wheels during the winter (_'We were having a happy conversation MJ. That means no dead cat stories'_) and he's sent her a picture of a cat dressed up as Iron Man. (She's not a cat person, she's barely a dog person. But, when Peter sends her animal pictures at two am Michelle isn't faking how adorable she finds them.)

_'Do they have a Black Panther one?'_ she asks.

And, to her surprise, replies immediately with a: _'Woaahh you're awake?'_ and a _'Isn't that basically a cat in a cat costume?'_ and Michelle sighs to herself, rolls over, wincing at her arm and replies.

It's easier to ignore the pain when she's messaging Peter.

It's easier to ignore anything when she is with Peter, period.

Well, except for the shy smile that's crept up her face and the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

She should kill him, Michelle thinks. It's easier to kill a person than it is to like them. Maybe Spider-Man would help her out; she is his soulmate after all. And he kind of owes her after the constant hell he puts Michelle through. But, then again, a world without Peter Parker doesn't seem all that appealing either.

A new image pops up, and Michelle rolls her eyes at the Spider-Man cat Peter's just sent her.

_'This one's my favourite'_, Peter writes.

And, blushing at her wit, Michelle replies: _'Mine too.'_

* * *

She's late for school. Her arm still aches when Michelle wakes up, and she only manages to glance at the notifications on her phone announcing Spider-Man's fight last night.

She runs out of the front door ten minutes later than usual and, bag bouncing on her back, Michelle sprints across the road. She's already missed her usual bus, and there's no time to call an uber and school's not all that far away from her place. She's walked down often enough — how hard can it be to run?

She stops at the crossing two streets from school, panting and pulls out her phone. Ten minutes till class begins. She'll reach on time.

Michelle sighs. The light turns red. She adjusts her backpack and jogs across the road. Her phone, tucked in her back pocket, pings. She keeps walking. Her legs are tired, and her arm still aches where Spider-Man was hit. _Almost there_, Michelle tells herself.

She barely hears it at first. The loud revving of an engine — the blaring of a siren. She stops for some reason; her head turns too slowly. She dimly registers the police car speeding towards her.

And then, before Michelle can fully gauge the situation, the world disappears from under her feet and Michelle squeezes her eyes shut, expecting the worst.

Except, someone's holding her tight against them, her face pressed against his chest and his arm wrapped carefully around her waist. They hit the ground, and Michelle doesn't need to look up to know who it is.

She's shaking all over. Her hands are numb, her arm (no, his arm) burns from the strain of carrying Michelle. She can feel his mask against her cheek. She can feel his rock hard abs under her palms. When he breathes, it's against her. When she breathes, it's the same air he breathed out.

Michelle pulls away from him.

Her head aches, and it's not because of Spider-Man's headaches. It's because he's here. Because he saved her. Because she almost died.

"You okay?" Spider-Man asks gently. Too gently.

She wants to scream and pull off his mask and run her fingers over his skin and tell him that she's tired and aching and scared. Scared for him. Scared for herself. Scared that he'll die in a ditch on his own.

"That was close," Spider-Man says with a quiet chuckle.

Too close, Michelle thinks. And she suddenly pictures herself lying half-dead on the street and Spider-Man, a few blocks away, collapsing in a bundle. Because a car accident would hurt, Michelle knows she can barely stand when he gets into a fight, let alone swing around town on one arm. She could have hurt them both, or worse, killed them both.

"You're not just looking out for yourself," her Dad had said all those years ago. "You're looking out for them too."

Except, with Spider-Man, she's looking out for more than just her soulmate. With Spider-Man, she's looking out for a man who saves a million more people than Michelle could even dream of saving.

"Hey?" Spider-Man says, and he takes her palm in his and squeezes it gently. "You don't need to be scared."

"I'm not. Scared." (She's terrified.)

His eyes narrow, like he's challenging what she just said. Like he's trying to get her to cheer up and play along. "Maybe you should be. That was a close call."

And, for both of their sakes, she quirks an eyebrow at him. "So you want me to be scared?"

"I'm not sure."

That should be it, Michelle thinks. Their conversation should end right there.

But he doesn't move.

"Are you okay?" Spider-Man asks again. "For real?"

"Yeah," she says. "Thank you."

And then, because she's sleepy as fuck and a goddamn fool, Michelle asks: "How's the arm?"

Spider-Man's eyes widen. He isn't expecting the question, she sees it in the way he leans back a little. In the fact that like a confused child, he presses his thumb against a spot on his right arm, digging it in and sends a sharp pain in Michelle's arm. Spider-Man looks at her; his eyes narrowed like he's trying to figure her out.

"Healing," he says. "You a fan?"

"Isn't everyone?"

Spider-Man laughs. Softly. Quietly. (Just a little.)

"Take care," he says, and he squeezes her hands again. "And watch the road while crossing."

"Yeah," Michelle says. "I will." For both Spider-Man and herself.

(Michelle's ten minutes late to school, but in her defence, so is a sleepy-looking Peter Parker.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably not going to be able to update for the rest of this decade, so here's a quick chapter as a holiday gift for you guys! I am taking part in a Spideychelle Secret Santa so there will be a one-shot coming up for that along with one more ficlet that features a grocery store and a kid who loves Spider-Man (it's a fluffy one-shot that I've been putting off forever so feel bug me to finish it if you're bored!)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting on this fic! I do try and reply to everyone, but if I've ever missed you it's not because I don't appreciate your comment. Life's just been busy recently.
> 
> Hope you guys have a great holiday season!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)


	7. Chapter 7

She's curled up in bed, watching _The Empire Strikes Back _because Peter tells her to when Spider-Man gets into a fight again.

His leg twists. His gut is punched. Michelle feels him falls. She feels him slam into a wall. Her arms are numb, and her fingers are trembling. Her silent cries are for him as much as herself and Michelle wonders, not for the first time, if there's a way to escape her soulmate bond.

She falls into an uncomfortable sleep, her knees tucked against her chest and tears staining her cheeks, the movie still playing in the background.

* * *

It happens the next day again.

Michelle wakes up to a sharp pain in her abdomen, a tight grip around her lungs and sits up, gasping for breath. She reaches for her phone, praying that someone has spotted him: that there is some update on Spider-Man, but the only Spider-Man related news is about a scam involving unofficial merch and the last tweet on Spider-Man's fan twitter is from weeks ago.

From her first day of school to be precise.

With a shot of Michelle clinging onto Spider-Man even after they'd landed, his arm loosely draped around her waist, her head buried in his shoulder.

She smiles at the picture in spite of the pain. It's proof that she actually met him; that her soulmate really does exist.

She's gone back to the picture more than once in the past few days. On days when Michelle curses him for the hell she's going through, the image is a reminder that she owes him her life (though, if she twists it around enough, Spider-Man saved himself just as much as he saved her that night.)

Michelle's not sure she felt anything. Hell, she doesn't even know if you're supposed to feel something the first time you meet your soulmate. But, tucked in bed while he sends her frequent waves of his pain, the picture is a reminder that it's for a good cause.

That he's out there saving lives.

So, surely, she can bear a little pain?

* * *

Except: When she goes to school the next day, it's with dark circles under her eyes and a water-bottle filled with coffee as strong as Michelle can bare. She sits behind Cindy, her eyes automatically landing on Peter and, when he gives her a cheery smile and a wave, Michelle has to force herself to give him her usual ironic wave.

He slides into the seat next to her at practice, his leg bouncing inches away from hers and bright eyes smiling as he pushes his flashcards into her hand and says: "Quiz me."

There are bags under Peter's eyes too, though he didn't reply to her message last night and his hoodie is zipped all the way up despite the heat that fills the classroom they've hijacked today. If she'd slept last night, Michelle might have questioned him about it, but for now, she tries to blink away her sleepiness and focus on her task.

"Didn't sleep last night?" Peter asks when she stumbles over yet another question. He's grinning at her, sitting sideways in his chair with his arm on the backrest and his fingers dangling uncomfortably close to her arm.

"Yeah," she says.

"Studying?"

She shrugs. "Something like that."

"You know," Peter says, and she swears he leans forward a little, his eyes boring into hers. "You should sleep. We can't have our Captain roaming around half asleep just days before the qualifiers."

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Who made you the expert?"

Peter grins, looking proud of himself. "I did," he says, and something about his voice makes Michelle's heart leap.

"Right. So it's unofficial?"

Peter sighs dramatically, pressing his hand to his chest. "Ouch!" he says, shaking his head at her. "You wound me, MJ."

And, despite her sleepless nights and her stress for the AcDec, Michelle smiles. "Dork," she mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Expert," Peter corrects. "But, you should rest Captain. I'll get Ned to quiz me."

He takes the flashcards from her, pushes his chair back, ruffles her hair and disappears before Michelle can protest and assure him that she doesn't mind quizzing him.

And all of a sudden, Michelle's cheeks heat up. She doesn't know what prompted Peter to mess with her hair and she has no idea why he disappeared so suddenly, but it leaves her smiling after him like an idiot. The moment she realises that she is though, Michelle buries her face in her elbows and squeezes, her eyes shut before anyone can spot her.

Shit, Michelle thinks, tilting her head sideways and peaking at Peter from under her arm. Shit shit shit shit shit.

* * *

She should take a nap. Michelle really should.

But, suddenly, she doesn't want to. She sits like that for a while, head tilted and eyes following Peter as he laughs with Ned. The flashcards have been put on the side, and she's certain the two have given up on quizzing. She knows that Liz would have been up there right now, doing rapid-fire rounds and getting them to read up on topics they're struggling with, but Michelle lets herself watch Peter, if only for a minute more.

She can hear Betty quizzing the others. Flash complains loudly when he misses another question. She hears Cindy laugh, and Peter turns away from Ned, his gaze seemingly landing on her.

Michelle closes her eyes. Breathes.

She's being an idiot, Michelle tells herself. Peter Parker might be right in front of her, but she's met her soulmate. Talked to him. Held him. Everything's different now. And, though she knows she might never meet Spider-Man again — that it's pointless for her to even dream of meeting him once more, she _is _destined for him. Just as Peter is destined for someone else.

And it's useless for her to stare; It's futile for her to wish for anything more than friendship because that'll only make it harder when they fall apart.

And, anyway, Michelle's never believed in ruining her life because of a boy: be it a soulmate or a classmate. She's here for the AcDec. She wants to qualify in the competition three days from now more than she wants to meet Spider-Man or hold Peter Parker's hand. It's her first AcDec as Captain, and that's both exciting and terrifying, and Michelle owes it to the team to make sure that they're ready for it.

So Michelle sits up, makes a mental note to stay awake just till the evening, and calls the rest of the group to the stage.

"Rapid-fire rounds," she says. "Get into teams of two. If you miss a question, you have to bring a snack for the trip."

Cindy sticks her tongue out at Flash. Abe grins, and Peter bumps shoulders with Michelle and says: "Teammates?"

They're a good team. Peter gets the first two questions. Then Ned and Abe at the other table get three. Michelle, who forces herself to pay attention, answers four questions in a row.

Betty pauses, looking through the flashcards for another question. Cindy flips Abe off because she got stuck with Flash. Peter leans towards her, his breath tickling Michelle's cheek.

"You know, I was wondering —" he stops abruptly, face frozen in an awkward position, his nose scrunched up and mouth hanging open. Michelle realises what's coming a moment before it does and turns away, just as Peter sneezes loudly.

Coach Harrington, who'd been dozing off at the back of the classroom nearly falls off his chair. Betty drops the flashcards in surprise. And Michelle hunches over, arms wrapped around her abdomen and tears pooling in her eyes because Spider-Man is suddenly punched in the gut.

She squeezes her eyes shut. Tries to breathe. Tries to wish the pain away.

"MJ?" Peter says, and she feels his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Michelle says, and she forces herself to sit up straight, though her palm still sits on her abdomen. "I —uhm — period cramps." Peter's nodding, water pooling in his eyes like he's stressed and concerned and terrified for her. She points at his water bottle, sitting just out of her reach. "Water," she says. "I — Can I?"

"Oh, yeah!" he grabs his bottle. Opens it for Michelle and watches as she gulps down a few sips. The pain is already easing away. She already feels a bit better.

"MJ," Peter says softly, and she realises, with a start, that he hasn't looked away yet. "Are you sure?" She raises an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure it was just, you know, cramps?"

She nods. "Yeah," Michelle says, and she tries to sound nonchalant when she adds: "What else would it be?"

Peter shrugs, closing his water bottle and carefully setting it on the table again. "I don't know," he says.

* * *

He's waiting at her locker after her practice, arms crossed over his chest and brow wrinkled.

"Are you okay?" he asks as soon as she's close enough.

Michelle nods. "Definitely," she says with the same casual air as before.

Peter sighs. Runs his hand through his hair. "You're sure, right? I could walk you to the bus stop or something if you want."

Michelle rolls her eyes at him. "It's okay," she says. "I'm fine."

"Right," Peter says and, for a moment, he looks like he wants to say something more. Then he shakes his head and walks away before Michelle can figure out why he's acting so odd.

She turns away. Stuffs her books into her locker.

"MJ?"

She spins around.

He's standing at the far end of the locker room, looking like he had when he'd returned Michelle's scarf to her during the holidays. (Looking at her like she matters. Like the butterflies in her stomach don't belong to her alone.)

He waves her hand at her in a perfect imitation of Michelle's ironic wave. "See you tomorrow," Peter calls out.

"Bye!" Michelle replies, cursing her burning cheeks and the smile at sits on her face.

Maybe she can focus on AcDec _and_ hang out with Peter. Michelle can handle both, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry for the delay. This chapter refused to write itself and I have at least half a dozen alternate versions of how everything played out. Honestly, the only reason I finished it is because of the number of kind comments that flooded my inbox every single day. You guys really don't know how much they mean to me and how much they motivate me. Especially on the crappy days. So thanks. A lot.
> 
> That said, we're gradually heading towards a lot of very interesting and chaotic chapters that will, hopefully, agree to write themselves faster!
> 
> Though, if you are looking for more content by yours truly, I put up two fics [two fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112782) in the last couple of days, one of which happens to be a one-shot [soulmate au](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869395) so do check that out! And, if you're bored, feel free to hunt me down on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)
> 
> Love you!


	8. Chapter 8

Michelle's got a checklist, and a backup checklist, just in case she loses the first.

She's packed two books, her notes, flashcards, timer, phone charger, laptop —no, wait, her laptop is still charging on her desk. She's packed her books, her notes her—

Michelle huffs, falling back on her bed.

_First AcDec as Captain,_ she tells herself, and, in spite of the absolute mess that her room is, Michelle smiles. She's both terrified and excited and is simultaneously hoping that Texas never comes but, also, that they could be at the AcDec already.

Her smile disappears at a gentle vibration as, from somewhere in the pile of books next to her, Michelle's phone begins to hum. She's up at once, raking through the books and pens and chargers she's kept in what Michelle likes to describe as an organised mess.

She finds her phone at last —tucked between the pages of Louisa May Alcott and then nearly drops it when she spots the name flashing on her screen.

It's not Coach Harrington, the only person who has called Michelle in the past week.

It's not even her Mom who prefers to give Michelle a phone call than to shout when it's time for dinner.

It's Peter Parker.

Gingerly, she swipes up, pressing the phone to her ear.

"MJ?" Peter says from the other end.

"What's up?" she says at once, and then cringes at herself for it.

"I —um —I was just talking to Ned," Peter says slowly; like he's trying to pick the right words. "I mean, Harrington already knows, and we've texted Flash too but —"

Michelle squeezes her eyes shut, she knows that tone. "You won't be able to make it?"

"Yeah," Peter says. Then: "No! What? No! Ned. Ned won't be able to make it. He's got a family emergency, his grandmom's sick and they've all gone to visit. I'll be there. For sure."

"Oh," she says quietly. "Shit."

Peter makes a sound that she can't make sense of. "MJ?" he asks again.

"Yeah?"

"Are you panicking?"

She shakes her head. "No," Michelle says, though she definitely is.

She'd have hated Peter for ditching them last minute, but the whole team's been expecting it. He's abandoned them more than once and, though he has been regular to practice since December, the team hasn't quite forgiven Peter for Washington. Which is why Flash focused on Peter's parts, and Michelle made sure she could cover for him if it came to that and—

"We can't do this," she says. "We're not ready."

"You're panicking," Peter declares. "Look, MJ, you need to breathe. You're brilliant. You're going to rock this!"

"Yeah, but _we've_ got to rock this. We're a team, remember? It's all of us or none of us."

She hears him chuckle at the other end. "We will," Peter promises.

"And you won't abandon us?" she asks, the words tumbling out of her mouth before Michelle can stop herself. "Like you always do?"

He's silent for a moment. "No," Peter says, and Michelle swears his voice drops to a whisper. "I know how much it means to you."

"It meant a lot to Liz too," she shoots back. "But you abandoned us then."

"Michelle," Peter says, and something in his voice makes her heart quiver. "I promise I won't abandon you."

* * *

He doesn't.

Peter's there when Michelle reaches school that evening, fingers curled around a small duffle bag and backpack hiked up his shoulders.

He sits behind her, leaning forward to whisper in MJ's ear every time Flash says something, or to check on what she's reading. She tries to pretend like she doesn't care. Like she doesn't get goosebumps when she catches him staring at her. Like it doesn't send a chill down her spine every time his breath tickles her ear.

When it becomes dark outside, Peter turns on his flashlight, so that it's not too dim for Michelle to read. When she puts her book away, he leans on the back of her seat and quizzes her till Michelle falls asleep. When she wakes up, he's sleeping: hoodie pulled over his head and his fingers still dangling on her side of the seat.

Michelle's pushed Spider-Man to the back of her mind for this trip —she needs to focus on the AcDec and getting the team to qualify, _especially_ with Ned's absence —but it's becoming increasingly hard to push Peter Parker out of her thoughts.

* * *

They qualify.

They barely qualify, but with Ned gone, it's not like any of them were expecting to be ranked first.

The whole tournament is a blur. The only thing Michelle remembers is the elation she'd felt when her teammates had piled onto her after the results were announced. She remembers Peter smiling at her from behind Betty, and she remembers the feeling in her gut — the mush and the butterflies.

The feeling of being invincible.

Like nothing in the world could touch her.

* * *

Michelle falls asleep the moment she gets back home.

Her Mom tries to coax Michelle down for dinner, but her eyes refuse to stay open and, after a bowlful of fried rice, she's back in bed, curled up between too many pillows and falling asleep the instant her head touches the bed.

Her eyes open suddenly, what must be hours later; like a thought's just occurred to her, and Michelle sits up quickly just as, somewhere in Queens, Spider-Man falls.

She feels numb. Michelle sways on the spot, struggling to find the energy to sit upright.

She slumps back into bed, reaching up involuntarily and running her fingers over a spot on her cheek. Her wrists ache. Her back burns.

Michelle knows, somehow, that something's gone horribly wrong.

She winces as something hits his gut again. He falls. Crashes into something. She feels sharp pinpricks against her skin. There's a blinding pain that makes it hard to breathe.

There are tears pooling in her eyes.

In his eyes, too, maybe.

And then, something hits him in the leg, and Michelle cries out in pain.

She bends over, gripping her legs, and digs her nails into her skin. Spider-man slips out of her mind. Suddenly, all she wants is to get rid of the pain that seems to penetrate even her bones.

There are tears running down her cheeks.

Her heart is hammering against her chest.

Michelle curls up in bed again, hugging her knees to her chest.

The pain doesn't stop.

* * *

She tries to think of the lives Spider-Man has saved.

Of the people he's helping.

She tries to run through all the reasons why she shouldn't complain.

But, she doesn't have the strength to.

Just then, she wants for nothing more than the pain to go.

* * *

Her phone rings around midnight, the dull tune cutting through the silence of the night. Her cheeks are tear-stained, her hands still tremble, and the pain hasn't yet faded away.

Michelle reaches for her bedside table, palm dragging along the surface until she finds her phone.

She has to narrow her eyes to read the name on the bright screen.

It's Peter.

Peter Parker.

Michelle takes in a shaky breath. She squeezes her eyes shut. Tries to breathe.

Then she answers the call.

"Hey," she whispers.

"Hey," he replies. "You up?"

Michelle squeezes her eyes shut. "Kind of."

He's silent, for a moment. Then, Peter says: "Can I come over?"

"What?"

He breathes noisily; like he's gasping for breath. "Please?"

"My parents —?" she begins, but her heart's not set on it. Maybe this is her chance to tell him the truth — her chance to tell _someone_ the truth.

"I'll climb in," Peter promises. "Through the window. Just —please?"

Maybe because she's lonely too and because she knows she won't sleep tonight, Michelle nods.

"Yeah," she says. "Okay."

"Five minutes," Peter says.

Five minutes, Michelle thinks, and she closes her eyes again, ignoring the sharp pain that courses through her veins.

* * *

She hears him open her window and, Michelle's first instinct is to roll out of bed and double-check that her door is locked. When she turns around, he's standing inches away from her, chest rising and falling.

"I have to tell you something," he says at the same time as her.

"You first," Peter mumbles. She can just about make out his face in the darkness of her room, his hood pulled over his head, and the whites of his eyes stand out in the dark.

She gulps. "It's a secret," she says. "Nobody else knows. If you tell a single soul, I will hunt you down, okay?"

Michelle swears he rolls his eyes. "Okay —" He coughs abruptly, a throaty dry cough that sends a chill down Michelle's spin and sends a sharp pain in her own gut.

"Shit," he mumbles under his breath, and he takes a step backwards, loses his footing and, before Michelle can react, collapses in a pile on her floor.

Pain shoots up Michelle's legs, but she dismisses it, bending down and waving her phone to turn on the flashlight.

"Peter?"

"I'm okay," he mumbles, though he doesn't sound it.

He stares up at her, eyes wide, just as the light comes on. He looks a mess. His hair is plastered to his forehead. There's a deep cut on his cheek, his right-eye is badly bruised. Michelle runs her eyes down him, and her heart stops.

Because Peter Parker is wearing scarlet-blue leggings that Michelle's seen on the news a million times now.

Because he's looking at her guiltily; like he wasn't expecting her to find out like this.

"Maybe you should go first," Michelle whispers.

And Peter, giving her an apologetic smile, says: "I'm Spider-Man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it! I started this fic with the first chapter and the last few scenes of this chapter. It's taken weeks for the rest of the fic to come together, but I've been dying to post this part right from the very beginning!
> 
> Sorry about the cliffhanger (not really!) and sorry about the delay in posting this chapter. I really hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)


	9. Chapter 9

There's a buzzing sound at the back of her head.

Michelle can feel it now.

The way it burns when he breathes. The numbness in his leg. The wound on his torso.

He's sitting in front of her, smiling like an idiot, looking like it's nothing. Like this doesn't change everything. Like he hasn't just told her his biggest secret.

"MJ?" Peter says, and she feels the pain that creeps through his body as he leans forward, taking her hand in his.

She remembers that day at practice when he sneezed. The day he saved her at the crossing. Homecoming. Washington. Liz's party.

It's so obvious she doesn't know how she never figured out. His random disappearances, especially when Spider-Man turns up. The seemingly unprompted improvement in PhysEd. The unnecessary defence of everyone's favourite masked hero.

_Peter is Spider-Man._

_Spider-Man is Peter._

_Spider-Man is her soulmate._

_Peter Parker is her soulmate._

"MJ?" Peter says again, and he sounds worried this time.

_He doesn't know._

Of course he doesn't. They've never talked about soulmates during their late-night texts. Michelle knew she had Spider-Man, and she knew that Peter had a soulmate too. A soulmate who Michelle had assumed wasn't her. It's not like she was ever expecting anything to come out of their friendship.

It's not like she was expecting this.

"I swear I didn't want to bother you, but Ned's out, and May's at a late shift and—" He breathes in. Tugs at the roots of his hair (it stretches the wound on his torso and Michelle has to force herself not to wince at the pain). "If you want me to go, I'll leave, and we can pretend like this never happened."

"No," she says, and it comes out louder than Michelle had intended. "No," she repeats. "It's just a lot to process."

Peter nods. "Yeah. I get it. Ned was quizzing me about it for days, and it took May an entire week of convincing before she let me go out again."

Michelle forces herself to smile. She doesn't know how he does it. How he keeps grinning and talking like nothing's wrong— like every inch of his body is aching.

She wants to ask him what happened. She wants to know who he's been fighting for the last few weeks. She wants to know how much longer this will go on for, for Peter's sake and hers.

"What do you need?" she asks instead.

"Water," Peter says. "And Antiseptics. I'll heal quickly, but I need to make sure that nothing is infected."

She goes downstairs at once, of only to get away from Peter for a moment and breathe. Her hands shake violently when she fills a glass with water. Her palms feel sweaty; her head aches.

Michelle can feel him moving upstairs. The slight tension in his leg, a stretch of his abdomen. How has she never suspected before? He's always been right there — sitting two seats to her left in class, grinning at Michelle when she stops at her locker, whispering into her ear on the bus, holding her hand when he doesn't need to.

They're soulmates, she thinks, and she tests the word on her lips, mouthing it into the darkness. They've always been soulmates.

Maybe Michelle should be happy. She should be grinning at Peter and gushing on about the truth. They've been dancing around one another for so long, and now Michelle knows that it wasn't in vain. That all of it meant something.

She should be happy. Instead, an uncomfortable fear settles in her gut.

"No," she whispers. She can't do this.

She doesn't know how.

* * *

He's taken off his hoodie when Michelle gets back. There's a dark patch on his waist that spreads to the small of his back. She doesn't know how he moves. How he hasn't passed out from blood loss.

"Ned says hi," Peter says when she sits down next to him. "He approves of my decision to come to you."

She rolls her eyes at him out of habit. "I don't know what to do."

"Don't worry, I do! We're going to have to wash it out first. Just with water and, if you have a soft cloth— not a towel— that would help too."

"Right," she says. "To the bathroom then."

"Yep."

She's up at once, checking again that she locked her bedroom door before turning on the bathroom light, busying herself so that she doesn't need to stare at him. (So that he doesn't realise the truth by staring at her.)

"MJ?" Peter says, still on the floor. "I'm gonna need some help."

"Oh."

Her stomach knots uncomfortably, and the feeling in her gut intensifies. What if it hurts Peter too much? What if it hurts _her_ too much? He's right there. Staring at her expectantly. Watching her. What if he figures out that she winces exactly when he does? What if she hisses in pain? And, if he finds out — would that be a bad thing?

Does she want him to know?

Is she ready for —?

No.

Not yet.

Not so soon.

She kneels next to him again, and Peter loops an arm over her shoulder.

"Slowly," Peter whispers and she feels the sting in his back as he stands.

Michelle doesn't know how she does it. Her leg aches. Her back burns. I'm not hurt, she tells herself over and over again. Her legs work fine. She can stand on her own. Peter's the one who's been injured. Not Michelle; Even if it feels like her own skin has been torn and scratched and bruised.

They're both panting when they finally reach the washroom, with Peter sitting on the tiled floor of her shower and Michelle right behind him. His face is pale, the circles under his eyes more visible than ever. They've left a trail of blood behind them, and the sight scares her.

_'Why?' _she wants to ask. '_Is all this pain and blood really worth it?'_

"I swear I'll help you clean up," Peter says, and he gestures at the floor.

She closes her eyes. Shakes her head. Michelle's terrified for him, but there's a spark of anger too. How does he play it off as nothing? How does he act like it's not killing him? Like all of this is normal? She wants to shake Peter and scream at him and tell him to slow down.

To stop and think about himself.

(She wants him to think about her.)

Before it's too late.

"It's fine," she says, sounding frustrated to her own ears. It takes Michelle only a moment to realise that Peter won't get what she's mad about.

Peter's face falls at once. "MJ, I swear I—"

She shakes her head. "It's okay," she insists. "Really. I'd rather have you bleeding all over my room than in a ditch on your own."

"Thanks," he says with a sincerity that makes Michelle blush.

"Also, I'm going to need help with my suit."

Oh_._

_Oh._

She's glad Peter's turned away from her because her cheeks burn at his words.

"Okay," Michelle squeaks. She's about to ask how when, suddenly, the suit blows up, like a parachute, and sags around Peter's arms and shoulders.

"Slowly," he says again, and he's squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched.

She is slow. The suit sticks to the blood and, though Peter doesn't budge, she feels it when she's not gentle enough — when the cloth rubs against his wound and when she hurts him.

It's a good thing he can't see the way she tenses up at his pain, or the tears that pool in her eyes. Neither can he see the blush that refuses to leave Michelle's cheeks every time her knuckles brush against his arms or back.

"Done," she says, at last, letting out a breath Michelle hadn't realised she'd been holding. "Cold water?"

"Yep."

She plucks the hand shower from its stand, keeps the water pressure as low as possible and looks down at Peter. "Ready?"

He nods. "As I'll ever be."

* * *

"So," Michelle says, "That day at the crossing, it was you?"

"Em," Peter says, and it sends a chill down her spine. She's always been Michelle or MJ, until now. (_Until Peter._) "How many other Spider-Man's do you know?"

Michelle rolls her eyes. "I'm trying to put things into perspective," she says. Really, she's trying to think of every time Spider-Man was in pain and every time Peter acted like nothing was wrong.

It's past three in the morning, and they're back in her room. Peter's wearing his hoodie again along with Michelle's Black Panther pyjamas ("I can't believe you don't have Spider-Man pyjamas." "Let me know next time you plan on revealing your secret identity, and I'll get a pair in preparation.") and, she's sitting right next to him — her shoulder bumping against his and their knees pressed together.

"How long has Ned known for?"

"Since before Liz's party."

"And your Aunt?"

"Since right after Liz left."

"Have you met Tony Stark?"

Peter snorts at that. "I've _fought_ with Tony Stark," he says. "And Black Panther."

He nudges her foot with his, drawing her eyes back to the hundreds of Black Panthers printed all over his pyjamas.

"When did you know you wanted to be a superhero?"

"I didn't. It's just the right thing to do, I guess," he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like he's surprised that Michelle doesn't get it. "I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't."

Something akin to pride swells in her heart, cutting its way through her fear. '_You're too good for us_,' she wants to say. The world doesn't deserve Peter Parker. Nobody does. Especially Michelle.

And yet.

Here he is.

Her _soulmate._

(Though he doesn't know it yet).

Sitting in her room.

At 3am.

Shoulder pressed against hers, palm inches away from hers.

Feeling like they've always been this way.

(Like fate was right about something.)

"Who were you fighting today?" she asks.

"This guy," Peter says. "I think he used to be friends with the Vulture, but he's got this weird costume with a giant metallic tail he coats in some kind of poison. I didn't heal for days the first time I got stung."

"How fast do you usually heal?"

Peter presses the pad of his thumb to the cut across his cheek. "This is almost gone. This —" and he lowers his hand to the wound on his stomach that Michelle had carefully wrapped a bandage around, "— should be gone by tomorrow."

"And your leg?"

Michelle can still feel the dull ache behind her calf and, just the memory of his exposed flesh and the blue-ish tinge to his skin makes her stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Longer," he says. "He got me with his tail again, plus, the cut's deeper."

"Oh."

Michelle's already spent what feels like a lifetime washing the dried blood from her nails. Once Peter leaves, she'll have to rinse her clothes. She doesn't know how he does it each night — how he comes home injured and still has the energy to clean his wounds and mend his suit.

More than that though, Michelle hates how casually he talks about it. Like he's accepted the pain and the blood as a part of his life. She's scared that if he keeps putting himself out there, one day Peter might not come home. That he'll leave her and Ned and everyone else behind in a heartbeat if it means saving the world.

"Em?"

Michelle shudders. Again.

"Yeah?"

And he's slipped his hand into hers, running his thumb over her knuckles. "You don't need to worry about me."

Michelle rolls her eyes at him because that's the easiest thing to do. Because she's not sure if she has the strength to argue. Because her heart's hammering so loudly that he must be able to hear it.

"I'd agree," she says, "but it looks like you don't worry about yourself either."

Peter sighs. "I used to worry about my soulmate," he says, sounding like it's something he hasn't really talked about before. "Even if I was okay putting myself in danger every day, there's a chance that they weren't."

All at once, Michelle can't bring herself to look at him. She stares at her desk. At her bookshelf. Out of the window. "What changed?"

"I still do," Peter says. "I'm scared of hurting them and worrying them, but I like to think they'd understand, you know? That they'd rather have a me who tried to save the world, than a me who didn't."

"I think they'd understand," Michelle says softly. Even if it hurts so fucking much. Even if she's terrified. She gets it. She's at least a little bit proud of Peter for putting himself out there and saving a world he doesn't need to.

"Really?"

Michelle dares to glance at him. "Yeah."

He's stopped tracing her knuckles, but his fingers are still curled around hers. Warm and calloused; feeling like they've always belonged in hers.

"Speaking of soulmates," Peter says. "Do you — Have you — Do you think you've found yours?"

Michelle freezes up. This is it, she thinks. It'd be so easy for her to pinch herself and say: '_There! Did you feel that? It's me.'_

He's right here. He's trusted Michelle with his biggest secret. He's holding her hand like they're more than just friends and — and Michelle's liked Peter for just as long as she's known Spider-Man was her soulmate.

It's so easy, and yet —

"Yes," she says quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. "That's what I wanted to tell you about. I — I met him at this event at my Dad's office a few weeks ago. His name's — um — James."

"Oh," Peter says, and his hand slips out of hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is 90% the characters saying Oh and 10% everything else.
> 
> I started this chapter before posting the last, hence the lack of delay for once, though mind you, the next chapter will definitely be late. That said, JSaBB is quickly coming to a close. I've got only about two chapters left till I wrap this up and I'm both excited and terrified about it.
> 
> Quick shoutout to everyone who guessed that Michelle wouldn't tell Peter the truth and thank you so much for all your kind comments on the previous chapter! They really made my day!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)


	10. Chapter 10

"Your laces are undone."

Michelle jumps. At the voice. At _his_ voice. At the sight of him standing in front of his locker, books in his hand and backpack slung over his front.

She glances down, if only to turn away from Peter, and, sure enough, her laces are undone.

"Thanks," she mumbles.

It's not that they haven't talked since last night. Peter slid into the seat next to her in class. He sat directly opposite her at lunch and even partnered with her in practice. But they haven't been alone since last night— since he abruptly left her room.

"You know," Peter says, and he closes his locker, clicking the lock into place. "I have a theory that the amount of friction in the world is decreasing."

"Because my shoelaces came undone?" Michelle deadpans, opening her own locker so that she can pretend to shuffle through her belongings while he talks.

(So that she doesn't get to look at him. And stare at him. And think about last night.)

"No. Because my shoelaces are constantly coming undone, and I swear I'm slipping more than usual and the only valid explanation for that is that friction is decreasing."

"Dork," Michelle mutters. "Have you considered the fact that, maybe, you don't know how to tie a shoelace? Or that the grip on your shoes has worn off?"

It takes an effort to keep her tone level. To sound like herself. (Like she isn't talking to her soulmate who also happens to be Spider-Man who also happens to believe she has a soulmate from another state.)

"That doesn't sound like a valid explanation at all," Peter says, and Michelle finally dares to glance at him. He's smiling like he's enjoying their banter. Like he thinks he's being funny.

He's not.

Funny.

But Peter's smile, the hint of a dimple on his right cheek, the way he looks at her— it makes Michelle's heart soar.

He's her soulmate, a voice in Michelle's head whispers for what must be the millionth time. Peter Parker is her soulmate. She's so fucking lucky and, yet, Michelle's scared. Scared because he's Spider-Man and because she's felt his pain. Because she doesn't want Peter to blame himself for hurting her. Scared that one day he'll go too far and leave Michelle with an ache that won't ever fade away.

"Did you clean up last night?" he whispers, and Michelle snaps back to the present.

It's the first acknowledgement that last night happened. That she knows about his secret. It's been in her head all day, and yet, it feels different when Peter says it. This makes everything seem more real, somehow.

"Yeah. How's your leg?"

Peter falters for a moment, then shrugs. "Better," he says, but Michelle's felt his pain through the day. She knows that his leg throbs every time he sits wrong, or stands still. (She knows he's lying.)

"Walk with me?" she says, and Peter looks up sharply, like he isn't expecting the question. There's an unsaid whisper of the name _James_, but she daren't bring it up. Not now. Not yet.

Michelle still doesn't know why she lied. Or, well, she knows why, but she can't justify it.

She didn't want to hurt Peter. (She just didn't want to hurt herself either.)

It was all so sudden, so out of the blue. She wasn't ready for the truth to come out— she'd barely had time to process the fact that Peter was (is) Spider-Man. Michelle thinks of his hand in hers, of the way he'd flinched when she'd cleaned his wounds. Of the way he'd opened up to her completely— stripped himself of all secrets.

He trusted her with everything he had, and Michelle didn't have the guts to tell him her only secret. One that concerns them both.

"I can't."

"Oh," Michelle says, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She hates the sinking feeling in her heart. She hates that she wants his company— that Michelle wants to hear him ramble about Star Wars and she wants him to hold her hand. More than that, though, Michelle hates that she wants to spend time with Peter, but doesn't have the guts to tell him why.

"It's just that May's kinda freaked out about yesterday. She doesn't want me going out tonight."

"Right, of course."

"You can come over though. If you want. She wouldn't mind."

Michelle looks up too quickly, her cheeks turning scarlet. "Sure," she says, though, something in the hammering of her heart and her sudden inability to look Peter in the eye makes her feel like she's doing something illegal.

Like this isn't allowed.

* * *

The thing is, they're different now.

Michelle feels it in the weight of the silence between them.

She sees Spider-Man in the way he walks— light on his feet, like he's used to being weightless. She sees it in the way he sidesteps a speeding bike, in the way he winces at his leg when he steps wrong. She sees Spider-Man in him when he taps her shoulder, mumbles something distractedly and leaves her side to help an old man cross the road.

Michelle wonders how she'd never noticed before.

She's known Peter Parker— the class genius, brilliant at AcDec, and a Star Wars nerd. That's still there of course, but now he's more. He's someone who stops to help people. He's selfless and brave and everything a superhero should be.

(He's everything that Michelle isn't.)

It scares her to think of how good he is. She doesn't know how far he's willing to go— She doesn't know how much he's ready to sacrifice for the rest of the world.

She thinks of his wounds last night. Of the way he hadn't been able to carry his own weight. Of how she'd dragged him from her bedroom to the shower.

What if she'd been busy last night? Would he have just passed out on the road, all alone and with nobody to help him?

She can practically picture Peter passing out in a deserted alley after a fight. She can see the way he stumbles, his legs giving way underneath him. The soft thud as he hits the ground.

He's already out there, pushing himself to a breaking point. How much longer until he goes to a fight he won't return from?

How much longer does Michelle have before she loses him?

She shudders at the thought and, instantly, she feels Peter's gaze on her.

"Are you cold?"

She shakes her head. "No."

The back of his hand brushes against her— it's a quiet gesture of comfort. Michelle almost wishes he'd hold her hand again, stringing their fingers together and running a thumb over her knuckles.

He would, she thinks, if he knew the truth. (If she told him the truth.)

"Em," he says and, where last night the name had made Michelle blush, today, it stings. She's lying to Peter. About herself. About him. (About them.)

She's being selfish and foolish, and he's so fucking nice, she doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," she insists, but her voice cracks like she's about to cry, and she feels anything but fine.

"We're almost there," Peter says. Promises. "May won't be back for a bit, so we can watch a movie or something if you want."

She nods. "Okay," Michelle whispers, but it feels wrong.

She doesn't know what she's doing.

Her head aches. Her palms feel sweaty.

Michelle knows she owes him the truth. That with every moment she spends with him, it becomes harder for Michelle to justify her lie.

* * *

He offers to drop her home.

They watch Murder on the Orient Express, Michelle curled up on the opposite end of the couch to Peter, more than aware of the fact that if she stretched, her toes would brush against his ankle. When the movie ends, May invites her to stay for dinner which means that she spends the next two hours playing Monopoly with Peter.

Before she knows it, it's past ten and Michelle Mom is calling, asking why she isn't home yet.

"It's late," Peter says. He's sitting cross-legged at his desk, drumming his fingers on the back of his chair. "I swear it'll only take a few minutes."

She scrunches her nose at him. "I can book an Uber—"

"I won't let you go alone."

"I can catch a bus."

"That's not much better."

She sighs. "I don't want to bother you like that."

"You won't," Peter insists. "It'll give me an excuse to get out too."

"Yeah. Okay. It better not suck."

Peter grins, leaping out of his chair and grabbing his suit from his backpack.

"I'm dropping MJ home," he calls out to May, slamming the bathroom door shut before his Aunt can let out a word of protest.

He's back at once, suited up and mask on, looking like he had that day at the crossing.

"Let's go?" Peter says and it takes her a moment to process it. She knows he is Spider-Man, she spent all of last night helping him because of it. This feels different though, for reasons that Michelle cannot explain.

"How?" she asks.

"Piggyback?" Peter offers, turning around.

She nods. Okay, Michelle thinks. That doesn't sound terrible. Except her heart is hammering loudly against her chest, and she's definitely too tall to be piggybacking on Peter and she is still carrying her school bag and—

"Hold on tight," Peter says, leaping out of his window and Michelle screams.

She hates it. The weightlessness when they fall, the feeling in her stomach when Peter aims for the next building and pulls them up. She buries her head in his chest, legs wrapped around his waist and clinging onto his chest, praying that she makes it home in one piece.

He lands two blocks away from her place, and Michelle practically leaps off him glad to have her feet back on the ground.

"I'm never doing that again," she declares.

Peter tugs off his mask, running a hand through his hair. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," he says.

He's smiling at her, his eyes gleaming with happiness. He looks so alive, Michelle thinks, taking a step forward. She may not have enjoyed the ride at all, but Peter loved it; It's a part of who he is.

"I have to tell you something," Michelle says before she can talk herself out of it.

Peter scrunches his face, like he's trying to raise an eyebrow at her but can't. Michelle smiles. Rolls her eyes. Tries to find the right words.

There's a lump at the back of her throat, a buzzing sound at the back of her head. She has to do this, Michelle tells herself. She owes it to Peter. She owes it to herself.

She takes another step forward, taking his hand in hers. She just has to pinch herself. That's all it'll take.

"I— I should have told you before, but—"

Her phone buzzes loudly, and Michelle drops his hands, digging her hand into her pocket and pulling out her phone. It's her Mom.

"You should go," Peter says, putting his mask back on.

Michelle nods. "Yeah," she says. "I—" She begins, but the right words don't come to her. There's so much she needs to say to him and there isn't enough time for her to say it. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

He gives her a thumbs up. "Tomorrow," Peter promises, and then he's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like rewriting all of this. I feel like my writing has changed and that depression has kicked in and these last two chapters just sound wrong. I'll finish this fic. I promise. (There's only one chapter left till I'm done!) But I'll edit this too and, maybe, if you come back to this fic in six months, it'll be better.
> 
> I'm also sorry for the delay in posting, and for not replying to any comments. You guys are the best and I've read every single comment over and over again and they do give me hope and make crappy days feel less crappy.
> 
> So thanks for sticking around!
> 
> Bother me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I've added an extra scene to the ending of Chapter 10 as of 11th April 2020. If you read the chapter before that, please catch up on it!

"I have a surprise," her Mom says the moment Michelle walks through the door.

"Mom," she says, rolling her eyes. "Not now—"

Michelle stops.

A familiar face appears behind her Mom, smiling at Michelle like nothing went wrong— like the whole world didn't come crashing down.

"Hey," Liz says.

And, just like that, everything changes.

* * *

"So," Liz says. "How's school?"

She's lying down on Michelle's bed, knees bent and looking more comfortable in her room than Michelle is. This is Liz though. Good at adapting to new situations. Smart. Pretty. Cooler than Michelle will ever be.

"Different," she says.

"I heard you guys qualified for AcaDec."

"Just the qualifiers. And even then, barely."

Liz huffs. "Still. Ned skipped, right? It's not easy to get through if your whole team isn't around."

"Yeah," Michelle says. "How's Oregon?"

"Different," Liz says.

"A good different or a bad different?"

Liz shrugs, chewing her lower lip. "Not a bad different," she says slowly. "I'm trying to put together a Decathlon Team. Then you wait. I'll bury your lot."

"I'd rather be buried by you than Texas," Michelle says with a shrug.

Liz smiles at that. "I wanted to come to school, you know. Though Mom said no. There's a second trial next week, and she doesn't want everyone gossiping."

She twists her hair around her finger, absentmindedly, like there's something else on her mind. Something else she wants to say.

"Betty said you've been spending a lot of time with Peter."

Oh. That. "We talk," Michelle says slowly. "A lot."

Liz sits up in a flurry, taking Michelle's hand in hers and holding it down— away from Michelle's face.

"Michelle Jones," she mock whispers, "are you blushing?"

"I am _not_."

(She is.)

"MJ." She looks at Liz. "Spill."

"He's my soulmate."

There. She said it.

It's been at the tip of her tongue all day, and Michelle should have told Peter instead, but this is easier. Talking to Liz is easier.

"Oh," she says, and she lets go of Michelle's hand. "Does he know?"

Michelle shakes her head. "I figured out a couple of days ago."

"When do you plan on telling him?"

"I don't know." She pauses. Hesitates. "I told Peter I've met my Soulmate and that he's from Washington."

"MJ." Soft and serious. Again. Like they're at AcaDec practice, and Liz is telling Michelle not to hold back; to be confident with her answers. "Don't be the unreliable one in this relationship. You owe him the truth."

"It's not that easy."

Liz shakes her head. "That doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"Because the longer you wait to tell him, the more it'll hurt Peter."

Michelle nods. Squeezes her eyes shut. "I know," she whispers. "It's just— complicated."

"You're complicating it more than you need to. MJ, if there's one thing hanging with Peter taught me, is that it sucks to have your heart broken by someone you trust. Don't treat him the way he treated me. Be honest."

"I'll try."

Liz rolls her eyes, falling back into Michelle's bed. "You better," she says.

They're quiet for a spell. Michelle opens her phone, pretends not to see the dozen texts Peter's sent her in the last half an hour. She replies to Betty about AcaDec practice. Swipes off a notification from Spider-Man twitter.

It's all so much.

It's all _too_ much.

"Liz?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"About what?"

"I never said goodbye. When you left."

"Honestly, I don't know if I realised."

"Ouch."

"MJ?"

"Yeah?"

"If you don't tell Parker, I will."

"I'll tell him."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

Liz and her Mom leave late at night. They're spending the night at a hotel near the prison where Mr Toomes is being kept and, if all goes well, tomorrow Liz will meet her Dad for the first time since Homecoming.

Michelle texts Liz in the morning: It's a simple '_Good luck'_ because, fuck, Liz is her friend and she doesn't need to be scared about not saying enough.

Liz texts back with a: '_You too ;)'_ that has Michelle blushing the entire way to school.

She's got it all planned in her head. The exact words she's going to say, how she's going to tell Peter. She's even prepared an apology for why she lied in the first place. She just needs to spit it out, and then the rest is up to Peter.

If he's mad at her, Michelle will live through it.

If he's happy, she'll let him decide what to do next.

She just has to tell him. That's all.

(Michelle's prepared for everything, except the smile Peter gives her.)

He's leaning against her locker like he's _waiting_ for her. He looks up from his phone the moment Michelle walks in and gives her the largest of smiles. She turns scarlet again, a goofy grin spreading across her own lips.

"Hey," Peter says and, all at once, it's like her brain and vocal cords have been disconnected.

"Got home okay last night?"

Something about the way he says it makes Michelle melt; the look in his eye, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Yeah," she croaks, elbowing Peter in the stomach to get him to move away from her locker.

This is what she should have talked to Liz about. The way she loses her brains around him; the feeling in her stomach when he smiles at her or talks to her. The fact that he's so selfless that Michelle's not sure she's good enough for him.

He's Spider-Man. Saviour of Queens, the coolest superhero in town. The same Spider-Man who fucked up Liz's life and sent her all the way to Oregon. It's all so complicated.

"So Ned comes back today," Peter says, hiking his bag up his shoulders. "And May will be home early for a couple of days too."

She crinkles her eyebrows. "Oh," Michelle says, not sure what he's leading to.

"I was thinking, I should go after the Scorpion dude tonight, you know? Hunt him down on my terms, so that I've got the advantage."

"Oh," she says again. The uncomfortable feeling is back in Michelle's stomach, but this time, it's definitely not butterflies.

She can't tell him.

Not right now.

Not today.

She can't do that to Peter.

Michelle can't let him go into a fight knowing that she's his Soulmate. She can't have him worrying about her when he should be focusing on Scorpion or whoever the hell he's fighting.

She owes him the truth. Liz was right about that.

But Liz was wrong about Michelle complicating the situation.

Peter has to do this. He has to fight Scorpion without worrying about her.

So she can't tell him. Not today. Not yet.

"Promise you'll stay safe."

He chuckles. "You know I can't promise you that," Peter says.

* * *

She doesn't sleep at night.

At first, she's scared. Scared for Peter. Scared that his fight with Scorpion will go down like last time.

He's barely healed from his fight two days ago. Michelle shouldn't have let him head out today. She should have told Ned or May or _somebody_.

And then it starts, the way it always does. A few blows at first— nothing serious, then he twists his injured leg, bruises his stomach.

She feels him fall.

She feels him fall again and again and again.

Her phone lights up, and Michelle rolls over, blinking back tears from her eyes.

It's Liz.

_'Did you tell him?'_

_'Not yet_,' Michelle replies. '_How was your Dad?'_

_'He asked about Peter, funnily enough. Also, don't change topics on me MJ. I can see what you're doing.'_

MJ rolls her eyes, sitting up straight and, suddenly, it occurs to her that she's not drowning in Peter's pain.

It's there. It's always there. But, right now, it's not overwhelming. Like she'd done when Peter had come over two nights ago.

She rolls over again, ignoring a fresh set of texts from Liz. Pepper Potts is usually out there, on camera, when Stark is fighting. She's not hiding in a washroom like Micelle. The Winter Soldier and Captain America fight side by side, dealing with their own pain and each other's. And sure, there are moments when Cap will stumble because of a punch thrown at the Winter Soldier, or vice versa, but it doesn't happen as often as it should. Then there's the fact that Iron Man saved Pepper Potts when she was kidnapped. That kind of torture should have had him aching all over.

There's right now. Where she's aware of the pain. Can feel it. But it doesn't hinder her. It's not destroying her.

She closes her eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. It hurts. It always has and it always will, but it doesn't have to kill her from the inside. She breathes in and out again, willing the pain away.

Her hands are trembling, her forehead is lined with a thin layer of sweat, but it burns less. She's not crying from pain anymore.

Michelle pulls up her chat with Peter, and, before she can talk herself out of it types a quick: 'Call me when you're safe.'

* * *

Peter appears on the news the next morning.

Or, well, Spider-Man does.

Spider-Man Twitter is blowing up with blurred videos from fans and conspiracy theories on who he was fighting, and what Peter was defending.

There are no texts from Peter though. No reply to her message from last night and no updates on the group Ned made with the three of them. He's absent at school too.

Ned slides into the seat opposite Michelle during lunch and says: "He's at the Stark Tower. They're taking care of him."

Michelle texts him again, a brief: '_Hope you're okay'_ and, after some hesitation a: _'Wanted to talk to you.'_

Neither message is received though and, when school ends, Ned tells her that he hasn't gotten any updates either.

* * *

And then, the next day, without any warning, Peter is back.

He's standing in front of her locker, arms crossed over his chest, looking as good as new and, before Michelle can talk herself out of it, she's thrown her arms around him, holding him like she never intends to let go.

(In her defence, Michelle doesn't want to let go.)

"Hey," Peter says and she steps back, taking his hands in hers.

"Hey," Michelle whispers, and this is it. She's going to tell him. "I have to—"

"Peter!"

His hands slip out of hers. Peter turns. It's Ned. Grinning broadly at Peter.

"You had me scared, man."

Peter grins. "You should have been there. Tony was so mad I didn't call for help and— "

They've started walking away but Peter turns, his eyes meeting hers.

He tilts his head so that she knows that she's welcome to come with them and Michelle nods, managing a small smile. Except, the moment's lost and, though she knows she'll have a hundred chances to tell him now, Michelle wishes she'd gotten to tell Peter right now.

* * *

She doesn't notice that her laces are undone.

It's as stupid as that.

Michelle's still cursing herself for not telling Peter. She's half debating stopping at his table for a minute, just to tell him. To spit it out while she still has the guts to.  
She's carrying half a dozen test tubes back to her place, and she's not exactly focused on what's going on around her, and Flash is walking backwards, talking loudly to Abe.

"MJ!" Peter calls out from his desk, and she turns too quickly, just as Flash steps on her shoelace and everything goes to hell.

She trips. Falls. The test tube breaks.

For some reason, she tries to gather the broken pieces, and, before her brain can catch up to the present, there's a glass piece wedged in her palm, dark red blood trickling out.

Mr Coleman shouts something. Someone else pulls her up to her feet.

But the world's gone distant. There's a loud buzzing in her ear. An uncomfortable prickle in the back of her neck. Michelle turns.

Her eyes find Peter.

He's staring at her oddly like he's just realised something. Like—

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

And then she's whisked off to the school nurse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for being so kind and supportive after my last Chapter. My mental health is back on track, I've started working on a new fic and JSaBB is nearly done! In the meantime, if you want to request any short fics, or just generally ramble about my current fics, please hunt me down on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and for being the best readers ever!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Tweaked a few things in Chapter 11 because I couldn't remember what I'd planned when I added them. It's not major though so you don't need to reread it!

He's waiting outside the nurse's office, drumming his fingers on his knees, and fidgeting with his phone like he doesn't know what to do with himself. If she's being honest, Michelle doesn't know what to do with herself either.

She stares at him through the narrow window in the door, her heart hammering loudly and blood rushing to her cheeks.

Peter wasn't supposed to find out like this.

None of this wasn't supposed to happen.

And yet, here she is (and there Peter is), and the world has never felt like this amalgam of terrifying and exciting before.

He looks up before Michelle can find the courage to push the door open, and he's up at once, tugging his fingers through his hair, stuffing his phone into his pocket. Staring at her. Waiting. Watching.

She breathes in, bracing herself for the worst, pushes the door open.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," Peter replies.

"I—"

"You—"

She stops abruptly. It's hard to look at Peter for some reason. The hammering of her heart feels overwhelming, and the feeling in her stomach is less like butterflies and more uncomfortable.

"I should have told you," Michelle says.

Peter's quiet for a moment. Then he nods. "Yeah," he says slowly. "You should have."

"Are you mad?" she asks, and, for the first time, it occurs to Michelle that she's fucked up. That this might not end well.

Peter sighs tugs his hand through his hair. He shifts his weight from side to side like he's got too much energy and he doesn't know what to do with it. Like he doesn't know what to do with himself. (Like he doesn't know if he is mad or should be mad.)

"I don't know," he says, at last, stepping forward and taking her hands in his. "I don't know," he says again. Softer, this time. More desperate. Like he's trying to convince himself just as much as he's trying to convince her. "We need to talk," he says. "Now."

* * *

It's funny how nobody stops them. How Peter just knows that there's a side gate out of school that nobody keeps an eye on. That he can break the lock with his bare hands. Though, then again, he's probably snuck out over a dozen times in the past year alone.

"I've known since Homecoming," she says slowly. "About Spider-Man." It sounds worse when she starts off like that; like she's kept the truth from him for months instead of days.

"What do you mean?"

"I knew something was off. People don't get hurt as much as my soulmate did and, on Homecoming, everything just clicked. I didn't know that you were Spider-Man, though."

"So that day at the crossing? You already knew?"

Michelle nods.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"About Spider-Man?"

"No," Peter says, and he rakes a hand through his hair again. She thinks they're walking towards his place, but Michelle isn't sure. "That night. When I told you the truth. Why didn't you tell me?"

She doesn't know. Or, maybe she does, but there's so much to explain, and it's so hard to describe and— "I don't know." She pauses. "Are you mad?"

"No. It's just— I like you," Peter says quietly. "I really like you, MJ, and I guess a part of me was hoping that you liked me back. I think I almost suspected we were soulmates." He lets out a dry laugh that stings Michelle; that makes her feel like she's fucked up. Like he _is_ mad.

"I know it's only been a few days since you found out, but they've sucked. You were being friendly and close, and I didn't know if you were messing with me or cheating on your soulmate and I honestly don't know which would have been worse."

"I— I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. Shrugs off her hand. "I'm not mad at you," Peter says slowly. "But I think I need some time to sort this out. For myself."

She nods, wringing her hands. "Yeah," Michelle whispers. "Of course."

* * *

She hates herself.

For not telling Peter.

For being scared of the truth.

For keeping it a secret for so long.

She wonders if he feels it when she stubs her toe on the dining table after dinner. If he feels the numbness that shoots up her arm when she hits her elbow on the door. She wonders if he's thinking about her. If he can't sleep either.

(She wonders if she should risk sending a text, or if it's too soon.)

* * *

If Ned notices that she's back to sitting three seats away from them, he doesn't say anything about it. She carries an extra book to school just so that she doesn't have to risk talking to anyone, and for a bit, everything feels almost normal. Almost.

Liz texts her. Again and again. Asking how it went.

Michelle glances at the notification, swipes it off, and pushes everything out of her head. Or tries to. Except, her eyes find Peter when they're in class; her gaze landing on him every time she glances back. She sees him in the locker room when she can barely get to her locker. Sees him jogging down the hall, late for maths. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once and that hurts so fucking much.

Peter skips AcDec practice all week. Like he can't bear the thought of having to face her then. He turns away quickly whenever their eyes meet. It's as though he doesn't want to look at her or talk to her.

Michelle hates herself. She's mad when she walks home a week after Peter found out. Mad for the tears she's shed over a stupid boy. Mad that she didn't have the guts to say something on time. Mad at Peter for barely talking to her. Mad at the universe for doing this to her.

It's only been a week and already the world feels like hell; Michelle doesn't know how long she can deal with the silence for. (She doesn't know how long Peter will ignore her for.) She kicks a rock on the footpath. Mentally swears at the car speeding past her. At— something roars loudly, and something tells Michelle that this isn't a speeding car.

Michelle looks up.

She'd have recognised the creature even if Peter hadn't described it. The resemblance to a Scorpion is striking, even though the monster is standing on its hind legs instead of crouching down on the ground. Its body is a glittery black and it's tail smashes into cars on the sidewalk, making the people scream.

He's marching through the middle of the road, ten times taller than Michelle had imagined and, suddenly, she can't breathe. Peter fought this, a quiet voice in her head says. Peter, who barely reaches her nose fought something the size of a building and came out alive. This is why it hurts so much. This— how does he fight _this_?

A man, standing in front of her shouts, pointing behind Michelle. She pivots. Looks up.

It's him. Peter. (Spider-Man.)

He closes in on the monster with surprising speed, hand out and shooting webs at the giant thing. She can't see the webs, but he goes back and forth till the monster stumbles, caught in the web. The crowd cheers, clapping for Spider-Man, but his victory is short-lived. After all, Michelle finds herself thinking, what can a few webs do against a monster that size.

The scorpion reaches out with a pincer; like it's trying to grab Peter, and he barely swings out of way. She should go, Michelle thinks. The last thing Peter needs is for her to get hit and slow him down too. She takes a step back, eyes still glued on the pair. The Scorpion steps forward. Reaches out again. This time, Peter's less lucky. He gets swatted like a fly, and Michelle feels the sharp pain in her chest as he hits a building and falls, landing in a scarlet and blue bundle, on the ground.

She gets stumbles. Her knees buckle under her and it takes an effort to stay standing. Michelle knows she should leave, that Peter's hurting enough without her adding to it. She can't leave him here though. She has to check that he's okay. That the burning sensation in her chest and the blinding pain in her legs isn't as bad as it seems.

She jogs across the road, barely ducking out of the tail's way as it smashes into yet another row of cars. If the Scorpion cares that Spider-Man has fallen, he does nothing to show it.

"Peter," she says, crouching down next to him. Somewhere behind her people scream again as another car is smashed into a wall. The Scorpion's still moving. Still fighting.

"MJ?" he says, frowning at her. "Are you okay?"

She rolls her eyes. "You'd be the first to know if I wasn't."

Peter cracks a smile at that. "Can you feel it?" he asks, placing a hand on his stomach.

She nods. "It'll heal, right? Soon?"

"Hopefully."

"Oh." Then, before she can talk herself out of it, Michelle says: "I like you too. I really like you, Peter. I was scared that you wouldn't like the truth and I was scared that we'd stop being friends and I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry."

"Hey," Peter whispers, and Michelle feels the way his body aches as he sits up. "It's okay. We're okay."

"You should be mad," she says.

"I was."

Michelle blinks. "So we're good now?"

He nods. Smiles. Tucks her hair behind her ear. "I've really got to go though."

She nods. "I know."

"We'll talk tonight."

"Sure."

He stands up. Aims a web at the building behind him.

"Hey, Peter?"

He turns too quickly like he'd been hoping she'd stop him. Like he wants to stay for a moment longer too. "Yeah?"

Michelle steps forward. Presses her lips against his cheek. "Take care."

Peter nods, then shoots a web and Michelle turns away, looking for a way out of the mess.

* * *

She hates that he has to go. That he has to save the world while all Michelle can do is wait.

* * *

She loves that he doesn't hesitate. That he just jumps right back into it. That he spins in the air and aim webs at the Scorpion like it's the most normal thing in the world. That it hurts when he fights, but she doesn't care anymore. They're okay. He doesn't hate her.

She loves that when it's all done, he texts her saying he's okay and asks if she is too. That he promises to come over as soon as he can.

* * *

"I could quit," Peter says.

He's sitting in her room, back against her ped and knees bumping into Michelle's. It all feels so familiar, and yet, it's so different to the last time Peter sat in her room. Last time, it had felt like her world was falling apart. Like everything had gone wrong. Right now, she feels safe. She feels good.

He tells her he came over as soon as May was sure he hadn't injured himself badly. That this time, Scorpion's gone for good. That the dark bruise above his eye is nothing and will be gone by tomorrow.

"Don't," she says. "Don't quit."

"But—"

She pulls her hand out of his, turning so that she's facing Peter instead of leaning against him. "You save people, Peter. You give them hope. You protect them. That's as much a part of you as your bad puns and crappy jokes. I couldn't take that away from the world and I sure as hell can't take that away from you."

"I— I just don't want to hurt you."

Michelle rolls her eyes. "Hurt me?" she scoffs. "That's a small price to pay for saving the world."

"You're a little bit of a superhero too, you know," Peter says gently. He leans forward, running a thumb over her cheek. "Thank you," he whispers with a sincerity that makes Michelle's heart quiver.

"You're welcome," she says.

"Em?" She raises an eyebrow at him, dimly aware of the fact that he's slid his hand into hers again. That his breath is warm against her nose, that he's staring at her with an intensity that makes Michelle want to melt. "Can I kiss you?"

Michelle rolls her eyes. "Obviously," she whispers, and then she leans in.

* * *

(His lips are soft.)

It's the first thing she notices. Then she feels his hand, curling around her waist. Tugging her closer. Like they're bipolar magnets— incapable of being separated now they've been fitted just right.

"I've wanted to do this for ages," he says, and Michelle can feel him smile against her.

She squeezes her eyes shut. Listens to the blood rushing to her face, to the gentle lub-dub of her heartbeat, to the soft sound of Peter breathing next to her. (Against her. Into her. )

"Me too," she whispers.

Peter makes a sound in his throat, then reaches up, threading his fingers through her hair. There's no monster threatening them now. The world isn't falling apart. And yet, when he presses against her it's with an urgency. Like they don't have forever. Like right now is all they've got.

Peter scoots forward, bumping his elbow into her bed, sending a sharp pain up her arm. Michelle winces. Peter blinks and pulls away.

"Oops," he says, cracking a smile, and suddenly Michelle's giggling at the absurdity of it all. At the fact that Peter is her soulmate. That he's here, in her room, with her. (That he just kissed her.)

"I should go," Peter says. "May wanted me back by 12." He stands up, opens the window. Michelle wonders if she should say goodbye. (If she needs to say something more.)

"You know," Peter says as he's climbing out. "I guess this makes you the Robin to my Batman. Cause you're a superhero too."

She rolls her eyes. "Please. I'd much rather be the Spider-Man to your Iron Man."

Peter beams. "I like that," he says. "Though I can do you one better."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You can?"

She can see the blush that creeps up his cheeks. "You're the MJ to my Spider-Man," he says and, even though it's a fucking fact and the dumbest thing he could have said, Michelle's heart soars.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Michelle squeaks.

Peter slides out of the window, and Michelle collapses on her bed, screaming into her blankets.

Yeah. So she likes Peter Parker. And he's her soulmate. And he just kissed her. She feels suddenly invincible. Like nothing could go wrong as long as Peter's at her side.

Somewhere outside, Peter slams his foot into something, and Michelle sits up, wincing at the feeling. She picks up her phone, debating in texting him but, instead, pulls her knee in, hitting it against the bed, a sly smile on her lips.

Her phone lights up at once, with a text from Peter: _'Ouch!' _Michelle grins, tossing her phone aside.

This is gonna hurt. There's gonna be days that suck and days when the pain overwhelms her. Days when she'll regret this.

And that's okay.

Michelle wouldn't have it any other way.

** _fin._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm glad this is done. Endings are often harder to write than beginnings and this last chapter went through dozens of drafts before this version. I can't say I'm in love with this chapter, though, I didn't feel like putting this off any longer. Hence, here you go!
> 
> I want to thank all of you who've stuck with me, and JSaBB from the beginning. The people who've messaged me on Tumblr, who've commented, liked and read this fic. I started writing this because of an idea I had while half asleep. I finished writing this for all of you. I hope you liked it!
> 
> That said, I am still running on minimal amounts of inspiration so if you want to drop any prompts or have any requests to get me writing, my ask is always open on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanfictioningfangirl) ! If you liked this and want to read more from me, I do have a Spideychelle a Soulmate one-shot amongst other stuff.
> 
> Thanks again for making it this far. It honestly means the world to me! Love you all!


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